In a world rampant with gender barriers, "chick flicks," and manly movies, it's the rare film that can tow the line and be truly beloved by all. When it happens, it's usually because the filmmakers drove themselves nuts making it accessible -- and certainly not because it followed the course of "true love." But somehow, The Princess Bride was one of those awesome films that transcended the boundaries of taste and sex. Or so I thought...
Last year, I was drinking a beer at a party when loud, drunken shrieks rang through the room. A drunk girl was going on a rampage about The Princess Bride, of all things! She swore that if you had a penis, you loved the movie, and then went on to make some statement about how guys love it and girls don't. Inconceivable!
Substitute "The Princess Bride" for any sort of gruff and bloody action film, and at least some sort of overgeneralized argument could be made. But the story of Buttercup and Westley's* true love? "True love" was so flipping prevalent in the film that it could've gotten its own character credit. I did a quick mental check to make sure I had the requisite parts and then weighed in on the argument, but there's nothing anyone can do to dissuade intoxicated and rampaging people. Although there was something sweet about an argument that linked penis-having with a love of romantic cinema... How progressive!