If you grew up in the early 2000s, you remember Julia Stiles. She was the "it" girl of grounded, slightly moody teen cinema. Then, out of nowhere, she’s in a trailer wearing a tiara. It felt weird. It felt like a total departure from 10 Things I Hate About You. But that’s exactly how the The Prince and Me movies saga began—a franchise that started as a genuine theatrical rom-com and slowly, bizarrely, transformed into a direct-to-video marathon that almost nobody recognized by the end.
Honestly, the transition is jarring.
The first film, released in 2004, is actually a decent movie. It’s got that mid-budget gloss. It’s got Martha Coolidge directing—the same woman who gave us Valley Girl and Real Genius. It’s got a plot that, while predictable, actually tries to deal with the friction between ambition and royal duty. Paige Morgan isn't just a girl looking for a husband; she’s a pre-med student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison who happens to fall for Edvard, the Crown Prince of Denmark.
But then things get messy. Really messy.
The Julia Stiles Exit and the Kam Heskin Era
Most people who talk about The Prince and Me movies are usually referring to the first one. It’s the one with the chemistry. It’s the one where Eddie (Prince Edvard) tries to pump gas and fails miserably because he’s never seen a manual labor task in his life. Luke Mably brought this specific kind of arrogant-yet-charming energy to the role that worked.
Then came the sequels.
When The Prince & Me 2: The Royal Wedding dropped in 2006, fans were confused. Julia Stiles was gone. In her place was Kam Heskin. Now, Heskin is a fine actress, but the "New Paige" problem is one of the most famous examples of "Second Lead Syndrome" in DVD history. It wasn't just a cast change; it was a vibe shift. The sequels—there are four in total—started leaning heavily into the "clumsy American girl in a fancy palace" tropes, losing the grit of the original.
The titles tell the story of a franchise trying to find its footing on a shrinking budget:
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- The Prince & Me (2004)
- The Prince & Me 2: The Royal Wedding (2006)
- The Prince & Me: A Royal Honeymoon (2008)
- The Prince & Me: The Elephant Adventure (2010)
By the time they got to The Elephant Adventure, the "Me" in the title was basically a different person entirely.
Why the First Movie Actually Worked
It’s easy to dunk on rom-coms. They're formulaic. We know they're going to end up together. But the 2004 original had something the others didn't: stakes.
Paige Morgan wasn't just a "relatable" lead; she was a girl who actually had a life she didn't want to give up. The conflict wasn't just about a jealous ex-girlfriend or a silly law (though the second movie leans hard into a "must marry a noble" plot point). It was about whether she could be a doctor and a Queen at the same time.
That’s a real question.
The filming locations helped too. They shot in Prague to double for Copenhagen, giving it a lush, European weight that the later films lacked. When you watch the original, it feels like a movie. When you watch the sequels, it feels like a TV pilot that didn't get picked up.
Dealing with the Fact vs. Fiction of Denmark
Let’s be real: the "Denmark" in The Prince and Me movies is about as Danish as a Taco Bell burrito is Mexican.
The Danish Royal Family—the House of Glücksburg—is one of the oldest in the world. In the movies, they portray the monarchy as this rigid, almost British-style institution with bizarre ancient laws. In reality, the Danish monarchy is famously "down to earth." Queen Margrethe II used to be known for walking to the shops and being a literal illustrator for The Lord of the Rings.
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The movie invents a parliamentary crisis where Eddie has to marry a woman of noble blood or lose the throne. It’s a classic trope used in The Princess Diaries 2, released the same year. It’s not real. Denmark’s succession laws were actually changed in 1953 and again in 2009 to be more progressive, not less.
If you're watching these for a history lesson, stop. Just stop.
The Direct-to-Video Descent
There is a specific kind of sadness in seeing a franchise go to the "Elephant Adventure" stage.
By 2010, the series had moved to Millennium Films. The plot of the fourth movie involves Paige and Edvard going to a fictional kingdom called Belavia (because why not?) and getting embroiled in a plot involving a sacred elephant. It’s a far cry from a pre-med student studying organic chemistry in a library.
Luke Mably stuck around for the first sequel but was replaced by Chris Geere for the third and fourth. Geere is a fantastic comedic actor—you might know him from You're the Worst—but he was playing a version of Prince Edvard that felt like a different character.
The production value plummeted. You can see it in the lighting. You can hear it in the ADR (automated dialogue replacement). The sweeping vistas of "Denmark" were replaced by what looked like generic forest clearings.
The Lasting Legacy of the "Royal Rom-Com"
Why do we still talk about these?
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Because The Prince and Me movies represent the bridge between the high-budget 90s rom-com and the current Netflix "Christmas Prince" industrial complex. They proved there was a massive, hungry audience for "Normal American Girl meets Prince." Without the success of the first film, we probably don't get the endless stream of royal romance movies that clog up streaming services every December.
There is a comfort in the repetition. Even if the movies got progressively worse, they maintained a core philosophy: love is more important than protocol.
It’s a lie, mostly. But it’s a nice one.
How to Watch Them Now
If you’re planning a marathon, brace yourself. The tonal shift between the first and second films is like jumping from a cold pool into a hot tub that’s a little too hot.
- Watch the 2004 original for the nostalgia. It’s actually a solid piece of filmmaking.
- Watch the sequels if you love camp. They are "bad-good." They are the kind of movies you watch with friends while eating popcorn and pointing out the continuity errors.
- Check the credits. It’s fascinating to see the names of people who went on to do much bigger things.
The reality is that these movies were never meant to be high art. They were meant to be escapes. They were meant to make you think that maybe, just maybe, the weird guy in your chemistry lab is actually the heir to a European throne.
He’s not. He’s just a guy who needs to borrow your notes.
Actionable Steps for the Royal Obsessed
If you’ve finished the marathon and you’re still craving that royal fix, don’t just re-watch The Elephant Adventure.
- Visit the Real Copenhagen: If you want the actual vibe, visit Amalienborg Palace. It’s much more impressive than the movie sets and you can actually see the changing of the guard without a dramatic subplot.
- Track the Evolution: Watch the 2004 The Prince & Me back-to-back with The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement. Both came out in 2004. Both feature the "noble blood" marriage law plot point. It’s a fascinating look at how Hollywood handles royalty.
- Support the Cast: Check out Chris Geere in You're the Worst or Julia Stiles in Riviera. It’s good to see what the "Royals" did after they left the palace.
Ultimately, the franchise is a time capsule. It’s a reminder of a time when DVD sales were king and a movie about a Danish prince could spawn three sequels without ever hitting a theater again. It’s weird, it’s messy, and it’s exactly what the early 2000s were all about.