The Perfect D&D Movie Already Exists

 And it's not the one with Jeremy Irons, either.

Well, it finally happened. The fabled D&D movie is finally out of development hell. I'm sure you've already seen the news about Honor Among Thieves, and no doubt a considerable amount of both praise and excitement and terror and disgust alike.

For my part, I'm not going to watch it.

You might have already realized this from my previous post on the subject, but I'm not the biggest fan of TRPGs having official tie-in fiction. When I got into D&D, what drew me to it was its potential to spark the imagination and to tell stories like the ones that inspired me - fairy tales, folklore, mythology, and classic fantasy. The rules were just a framework to build off of, and every DM had the potential to make the story and the setting their own.

But that doesn't sell in the age of cinematic universes. I'm afraid that what we're going to get is just going to be some generic fantasy flick with the D&D name slapped on it because Wizards desperately wants to be Marvel, and if the movie proves a success we're only going to get more of that. I already feel like the way the lore has been handled in 5e is pivoting away from promoting the limitless potential of the game in favor of turning it into one other appendage of the Forgotten Realms metaplot. And if new players come to D&D because they want to be Drizzt or Elminster or Chris Pine instead of wanting to be Odysseus or Robin Hood or Bilbo Baggins, all we're going to see is the snake eating its tail, and the "official" D&D promoted by Wizards will grow more and more corporate, self-referential, and uninspiring. No amount of morbid curiosity I might have is going to make me put my box office dollars toward making that a reality.

But that's not what we're here to talk about today. If we're going to talk about D&D movies, I would say that we don't need one. And not just because it's going to give people ideas of what D&D should and shouldn't be - but because it already exists.

The Princess Bride is a 1987 fantasy action-adventure comedy film based on the 1973 novel of the same name. You've probably already heard of it. Chances are that even if you haven't seen the movie you can already quote at least half of it (I certainly could, before I saw it for the first time during a college movie night that ingrained it in my mind for the rest of my life). Pretty much every line has become iconic, and been quoted at gaming tables and in forum signatures around the world. It's one of those movies.

It's also, out of every work of fiction I've seen, the one that most resembles a tabletop RPG campaign.

Think about the last RPG session you've been in. What was the mood at the table? Chances are that - even if the characters were facing a serious matter of life and death - everyone was joking around, quoting memes established among the group, and mocking the DM's decisions about the plot (hopefully in a good-natured way). The Princess Bride carries this tone throughout. There are jokes woven throughout the movie, through its witty dialogue and its meta-humor poking fun at the tropes of the swashbuckling period pieces that came before it. There are memorable running gags threaded through the narrative. There's a fourth-wall-breaking frame story about the story being read by a grandfather to his grandson, with occasional cutaways to the grandson urging that the boring parts be skipped over or questioning inconsistencies. Many of their asides would hardly be out of place at a gaming table.

But that doesn't mean that The Princess Bride is a cynical deconstructionist screed about how people who enjoy this kind of thing are actually idiots. It has a heart and soul that makes it enjoyable for what it is. And it knows exactly when to take itself seriously, and when to give the plot real weight and stakes. Just like even the most irreverent gaming group should still have an investment in the story being told and the characters they're portraying, The Princess Bride treats its narrative with respect, and when the Dread Pirate Roberts overcomes the obstacles in his way to defeat his foes and rescue the princess, we root for him the way we would a Luke Skywalker or a John McClane.

Human Swashbuckler, Halfling Assassin, Goliath Barbarian.
Not pictured: the other Human Swashbuckler.

Even the core cast of The Princess Bride feels like a D&D party in the hands of a good DM. Each character is very different, with their own unique personality, concept, and goals. Westley wants to marry Buttercup. Inigo wants revenge for the murder of his father. Fezzik is going along for the ride, but discovers friendship among his companions along the way. It feels as though they were developed by different people, much like how each player in a group brings their own perspective and wants to their characters. But in the end, each character gets their arc paid off in a way that feels satisfying and earned. The writer, much like a skilled DM, was able to weave each character's personal backstory and motivations into the quest, giving them all a reason to be together and making their journeys seem worthwhile. Even if Wesley is the main character, everyone else sees their arc paid off too. It's actually done better in this regard than some of the campaigns I've seen, and DMs would be wise to take note.

Hell, it's even a plot point that when one of the party members hits 0 HP, they need to find a healer to bring him back to life. Sure, I don't like resurrections being easy in my games (and, to The Princess Bride's credit, this is handled as an admittedly off-screen sidequest, which is more to my liking) - but when's the last time you saw that happen in something that wasn't an RPG?

In short, The Princess Bride does the one thing I would want out of a D&D movie: it feels like you're watching someone's D&D campaign. And that's something I feel gets left out of many discussions on the subject. Sure, you could make a generic fantasy yarn and throw in a beholder or namedrop Waterdeep, but that's not a D&D movie. That's a Forgotten Realms movie. And the trappings (and trademarks) aren't enough to capture the true tabletop experience.