True love’s a real bitch, but it’s also a real blessing. It requires patience, dedication, consistency, loyalty, and perhaps even a few years of pirating to defend with. Just ask the (current) Dread Pirate Roberts Westley (Cary Elwes), who gets the life literally sucked out of him amidst other perils for his sparkling lover, Buttercup (Robin Wright). In director Rob Reiner’s model fantasy swashbuckler about friendship, dedication, honor, outwitting your enemies, purpose, and, of course, romance, characters from all around learn about true love’s meaning—whether that be the love shared between lovers, friends, grandparents, parents, and offspring. Maintaining a meta backbone to modernize The Princess Bride’s already timeless themes, the late Reiner delivers a consistently funny, charming, humorously action-heavy, and meaningfully endowed film sure to touch everybody’s heart.

In the kingdom of Florin, Buttercup lives a simple life with her farmhand, Westley. With each command she mutters, he replies, “As you wish,” which she soon learns is his way of saying “I love you.” Falling madly for Westley in return, the pair come together as lovers, prompting Westley to venture off overseas for wealth to afford their marriage. However, after years of waiting, Buttercup gets word that Westley’s ship was raided by the infamous Dread Pirate Roberts, a masked pirate whose name inspires fear in even the noblest of royals. Depressed and defeated, Robin eventually gets with Florin’s ignoble Prince Humperdinck (Chris Sarandon), who loves her despite the feeling’s one-sidedness. Soon after, the now Princess Buttercup gets kidnapped by a Sicilian named Vizzini (Wallace Shawn) and his two henchmen, the gentle-natured but strong giant Fezzik (André the Giant) and expert swordsman Inigo Montoya (Mandy Patinkin), the latter of whom is driven solely by revenge over his father’s murder by a six-fingered man. As Humperdinck trudges off in search of his princess, the Dread Pirate Roberts suddenly seems interested in the chase, as he outsmarts all three kidnappers and saves Buttercup before Humperdinck. Revealing that he’s actually Westley and that the title of Dread Pirate Roberts is just a passable role, he plans to retire the name and settle down with Buttercup. However, as Humperdinck intervenes and the henchmen entwine deeper with this royal fiasco, Westley and Robin get separated. Westley must stretch himself thin to save Buttercup; perhaps relying on the banter and skill of strangers once considered his enemies—as enemies of our enemies can indeed be friends—will save the day, the girl, and a kingdom.

While sexism diminishes Buttercup’s depth compared to the mostly male cast—constraining The Princess Bride from feeling wholly refined and beyond a patriarchal formula—Rob Reiner ensures this medieval fantasy is robust in entertainment, feeling, and insight. Seemingly intuitive costumes and sets burst across each scene, making Florin, its inhabitants, and the surrounding environs feel captured in time instead of through design. Delightfully noble scoring, combined with some comedic undertones and unrestricted cinematography, wraps The Princess Bride in a daring yet cheery tone, further amplifying the optimism, honor, and humor apparent in both the book-within-a-film love story and the grandpa-son bonding taking place beyond it. Though Miracle Max and his wife Valerie feel a bit too enlivened for such small parts they play, from Wright and Elwes to Patinkin and André the Giant, no performance dips in its theatrical camaraderie, bravery, or self-deprecation. Their portrayals ground Princess Bride in an experienced grit that balances out the film’s other lighthearted elements, like when Inigo states and repeats his promised six-fingered man speech with stern eyes, a stone-solid gait, and unwavering integrity: “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” Without them, the love wouldn’t feel earned, and the honor, hollow—and perhaps storytelling between grandpa and grandson would end on a duller note.

Speaking of love, Westley and Buttercup’s fiery relationship is the ideal for all romance films. With chemistry boiling at every glance, phrase, deep gaze, and gentle hand hold, the pair ceaselessly live with and only for each other. When apart, and especially for Buttercup, their lives and personas seem fragmented. Together, Westley is charismatically funny and fiercely cunning, willing to do whatever he can to win out: “Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has,” he says to Robin as she fears their wander through some cryptic woods. Apart, though still courageous, loses his flamboyance; without Buttercup, his life is one of aimless fortune hoarding. Buttercup is much worse off alone, though, as she’s remained heart-shattered since the day she received news: “You killed my love…. I died that day,” she retorts to Westley, still disguised as Roberts and treating her and her loss like dirt to test her faithfulness. Love gave her life meaning, and then it killed her just the same as Westley supposedly was (and oh how joyful it makes their eventual—and obviously expected—reunion!). Yet when together, their lives seem limitless. It’s hard not to fall in love with these characters and this narrative with the sick kid who’s got an awesome granddad.

The friendship shared between Inigo, Fezzik, and, eventually, Westley completes the love trifecta that The Princess Bride illustrates. While hired as Vizzini’s henchmen, neither one is as dishonorable. Fezzik spends the film helping his friends and animals however he can, whether he acts as an elevator for others to cling to as he climbs ropes, he breaks down doors, or finds horses: “Inigo, I saw the Prince’s stable, and there they were: four white horses! And I thought, ‘There are four of us, if we ever find the lady.’ Hello, lady!” he says, waving with a wide grin, inviting a warm smile from Buttercup despite the chaos from moments before. Fezzik is the textbook gentle giant and a loyal, fierce man when needed. Inigo seeks honor from his search for the six-fingered man, but life costs: “I just work for Vizzini to pay the bills. There’s not a lot of money in revenge,” Inigo at one point admits to Westley, despite their being enemies. Seeing Westley’s relentless devotion to the chase, their being enemies is merely a formality, especially as their fight ends only in Inigo’s getting knocked unconscious rather than killed. After hearing of Westley’s “true love” purpose in detail, he understands their mutual benefit and potential bond, forging a path for a fun-loving trio of friends to storm a castle together—only together can they all stop the corrupt Prince Humperdinck from executing his true war-hungry plans. Reiner ensures that affections of all kinds flourish, that these bonds’ innumerable benefits dot The Princess Bride’s landscape, and that grandpa’s story is a bond-strengthening success with his grandkid.

All in all, while uneven character work keeps this grand love battle from perfection, The Princess Bride is a touchingly resonant romance-adventure and easily one of Rob Reiner’s sweetest cinematic serenades. Rest in peace, Mr. Reiner. May your works live on forever.

Screens in 35mm Wednesday, 3/18, 7:30 p.m. @ Somerville Theatre
Part of the ongoing repertory series: Feel Good Films