I Missed my VIP Meet & Greet: A Truly Inconceivable Night with Cary Elwes

Tonight was going to be one of those moments, those little flashes in time that when you think back on the day, it just absolutely warms your heart. Tonight, I was going to meet one of my childhood heroes: Cary Elwes. And it all went wrong before I even got in the door.

Initially, I had bought VIP tickets for me and my cousin, who are both big fans of the movie The Princess Bride. The movie was a staple in both of our households growing up, and we thought it would be an absolute delight to see the showing of the movie and live Q&A together.

This cousin of mine is like my big sister. We talk every week several times a week, but haven’t been able to see each other as often as we would like due to my family moving 1,000 miles away. This was our first event together in over a decade, and the first time I would see her in two years. Plus, next week is my 36th birthday, and she just turned - well, older than me since I’m not sure she appreciates me putting a number out here on the forever-net. Alas, plans did not come together and ultimately, she could not make it. Though saddened and disappointed, I understood. Things happen, and I have friends here who I could ask to take her ticket. So, I invited one of my best friends to attend in her stead.

Things went relatively smoothly in the events leading up to attendance; I left early, I arrived on time, and my friend arrived right around the same time. We entered the theater, and immediately it was a whirlwind. We were put through metal detectors, made to dump out our water containers, and shoved by hoards of bodies toward the back of the theater. We decided to just go with the flow and hit the bathrooms. Afterward, we got a snack and a water and headed to our seats. There were no signs - if there were, my friend and I just happened to miss every single one in the sea of people. We even asked ushers to help us find our seats, in the VIP area, and not one person we encountered said a word about the meet and greet.

The movie began and it was good as always, although I will say it’s quite the different experience watching The Princess Bride with a drunk, rowdy New England crowd before 8pm. To a degree, we collectively settled into the rhythm of the movie and enjoyed ourselves. Yet, something ate at me. I struggled with anxiety until about halfway through the movie when I finally allowed myself to relax. “Calm down, everything is fine! Plus, you get to meet one of your grandest childhood idols and explain to him what he means to you.” As Andre the Giant began nursing Mandy Patinkin back to health, I finally surrendered to the moment; and it was good.

The movie ended, and Cary Elwes took the stage. Even entering into his 60’s, his presence brings with him a fun, youthful, and light demeanor. Listening to him retell his experiences on the set of the movie was nothing less than captivating. At this point, I was truly engulfed. Although, there came a moment when I thought: “It’s getting late - I wonder how they’re going to streamline this Meet and Greet to make it quick.” Before I knew it the show was over, and my friend and I were heading toward the exits to the front lobby.

“I wonder where this Meet and Greet is?” I asked, uncertain.

“I don’t know,” she said, also puzzled.

And then it happened.

I glanced over and saw someone holding a signed copy of Cary’s book, As You Wish. As I looked all around us, I realized several people were holding books. Dread filled me as though suddenly all my organs were composed of lead.

“I think we missed it,” I said, pointing toward the numerous books.

“I hope not,” said my friend.

“Me too,” I said, somehow knowing that’s exactly what had transpired.

Long story short, there was no meet and greet because it had already happened while my friend and I were casually waiting in the auditorium for the movie to begin. I felt like such a fool. I am someone who is normally so meticulous! People that I know call me and text me to ask me if I’ll research things for them because I’m so good at organizing information. Every trip, every complex moment, every organized event has been handled by me on behalf of my entire family for 15 years. The one night I decide to relax, let loose, and ‘not worry so much’ about the details, I miss my golden opportunity.

I spent the long ride home disappointingly recalling this horror to my husband via phone call, and was trying to work out the reason I was crushed, other than the obvious. Was I upset that I missed it? Sure. Was I sad to not meet Cary? Absolutely. Was I bummed about the money I’d lost? A little. But, there was something more, something deeper.

After chatting with my husband I realized it boiled down to two things:

1. I was so upset with myself for ‘letting loose’ and taking a ‘relaxed’ approach for once in my life. Somehow, it felt like it negatively reinforced the belief that I always feel as though I must be tense, anxious, and twenty steps ahead with every contingency at the ready in order to be prepared to enjoy my life.

2. I desperately wanted to tell Cary how much his acting has profoundly impacted my life.

Chatting with my friend on the way back to our cars, I remembered saying just moments before, “It’s not like I had something particularly special to say. I am sure after all these years he has heard it all. It’s not like I was dying of cancer and his movies were the only thing that helped me make it through or anything,” I joked before we hopped in her SUV. “But, it still would’ve been nice to just let him know.”

After opening the front door upon arriving home, it dawned on me; even if Cary didn’t get to hear how much he’d impacted my life, it didn’t mean that I couldn’t share it with everyone else who is important to me. What are stories if not expressions of our own experiences to be shared in storytelling?

Now, I’m typing furiously to share with you the moving tale of a young girl inspired by her first ever favorite actor. Though The Princess Bride has still had a profound impact on me as a creative, there’s one movie that has, without a shadow of a doubt, changed the trajectory of my life.

At 8-years-old, I saw a movie called Robin Hood: Men in Tights for the first time. Not exactly an appropriate choice for a child, but lest we forget, my parents weren’t exactly strict about media consumption. It was the 1990’s. People thought parachute pants and primary colors with bold prints were cool. These people could not be trusted to make sure their children were consuming appropriate media. Anyway, I saw this movie and I was hooked. My parents had to tape the movie from HBO (that means record or ‘bootleg’ for you younger folks) because I couldn’t get enough. I played that tape over and over until I started wearing out the film.

Robin Hood: Men in Tights quickly became my favorite movie, and there was so much to love. Cary, for starters. Cary Elwes embodied a comedic but incredibly charismatic Robin Hood, endearing me to the character’s charm. Robin embodied everything I loved about a hero, and Cary brought that hero bursting to life.

From the characters to the writing to the acting to the pure belly laughs, Robin Hood: Men in Tights could not be beat. No matter how much my mother steered me toward Disney movies and the like, I was always watching Men in Tights.

By the time I was 9, I wanted to be Robin Hood for Halloween. Not keen on the idea of her beautiful girly-looking girl dressing up as a dude for Halloween, my mother encouraged me instead to be Amy Yasbeck’s Maid Marian. Don’t get me wrong - I loved Maid Marian and particularly Amy Yasbeck’s portrayal, but I wanted to be the hero, the person in the action, the one saving the day - I wanted to be Robin Hood. Alas, I went that year dressed as Maid Marian, with the largest, curliest, carrot-topped red wig that anyone has ever witnessed.

This was not enterely new for me. Years before, I wanted to dress as Peter Pan, and while I often cosplayed him with paper hats and pretend feathers, I was never given a proper costume. When asked if it was Tinkerbell who I wanted to be by the adults in my life, I emphatically corrected that I was Peter in my pretend play. Everyone kept seemingly pushing me toward the female gendered roles, and I could not understand how they did not see that I was not the typical female role. I was the hero! I was the title character! I was the one who could swashbuckle and fly! I was Peter, and I was Robin.

Despite never given the opportunity to properly embody Peter or Robin in cosplay, I was still able to become each character within my soul. Many afternoons I would spend jumping off of my bed pretending to fly as Peter. Other afternoons I spent quoting Robin and pretending to swashbuckle. Thankfully, I never lost the desire to become the hero in my own story, regardless of gender or creed.

Today, as an adult, I’ve fully embraced myself for who I am in all of the ways that I am. I never lost that faith that I could be whoever I was, and become whoever I wanted to be. I attribute part of that to Peter Pan and Cary Elwes, as Robin Hood.

Outside of that foundational teaching, something which I have carried with me ever since, Robin Hood: Men in Tights introduced me to the power of comedy. Mel Brooks is easily the most influential comedy writer filed in my mental laundry list of inspiration. The pure belly laughs I got from Men in Tights was worth watching the movie alone, but as I grew with the movie, I began to understand even more nuance to the script and the characters. What so many people view as a silly parody movie became a comedic blueprint for my future. The amount of times I have found something new, a little subtle easter egg I had missed before, is innumerable. To this day, I still find new things to love about Men in Tights and I’ve probably seen it a thousand times. No matter how many times I watch it, like a new bride on her wedding day, I fall in love all over again.

Between the profound impact Cary had on my childhood as an actor playing Robin, and the nuanced comedy and writing in the script, I was left forever altered. From the time I was very young I watched Cary on-screen and thought, “I want to do that.” I didn’t know what ‘that’ was, exactly, as I wasn’t sure I wanted to act, but I knew I wanted to be involved in inspiring people and making people laugh. At the end of the day, I recognized that I wanted to create. To create in order to bring people together for a purpose, an opportunity for connection.

Today, as one might guess, I am a writer. My words haven’t always crossed paths with tons of eyeballs, but the people who have read my words seem to be left somewhat impacted by them, inspired. Writing to build that human connection between us, to strengthen our shared sense of humanity always invigorates. Today, I’m writing about how Cary Elwes changed my life, and about how I accidentally botched the perfect opportunity to tell him. Shit happens, but I didn’t lose the opportunity to share a connected moment with others about his profound impact on my journey. Tomorrow, I plan to work on one of my many, many unfinished spec scripts. Who knows? Maybe in a week, or a month, or a year, I’ll have finished the book I’m writing and the scripts that sit on my hard-drive unfinished. But tonight, tonight is for me and Cary.

And of course, I must officially conclude, that missing the meet and greet was truly INCONCEIVABLE!

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