On April 11, 1988, the 60th Academy Awards took place in Los Angeles, but Alex Hayes stayed in Las Vegas to continue filming Rain Man.
The night brought a mix of professional victories and personal disappointment. Alex's production company, Hayes Productions, had a massive win when Dirty Dancing, which they produced, took home Best Original Song for "(I've Had) The Time of My Life." The award ended in a rare tie with another of Alex's films, Top Gun, which won for "Take My Breath Away." Top Gun also picked up a second Oscar for Best Sound Effects.
The film Moonstruck also emerged as a major winner, securing Best Actress for Cher, Best Supporting Actress for Olympia Dukakis, and Best Original Screenplay for John Patrick Shanley.
The evening's most dominant force, however, was The Last Emperor, which swept the ceremony with nine Oscars, including Best Picture. The film is a sprawling biographical epic that follows the life of Puyi, the final Emperor of China. It chronicles his journey from his opulent but isolated childhood in the Forbidden City to his eventual imprisonment by the Red Army and his later life as a humble gardener under the Communist regime. It was a visual masterpiece that captured the end of an imperial era and the transformation of a nation.
Alex had lost the award for Best Supporting Actor once again, but he viewed the loss with a pragmatic calm.
He recognized that Sean Connery had simply given a better performance that year.
Connery won the Oscar for his role as Jimmy Malone in the crime drama The Untouchables. His character was a tough, street-smart veteran cop who helps a group of federal agents take down the notorious gangster Al Capone during the Prohibition era in Chicago. Alex actually liked the film quite a bit.
By late April 1988, the golden glow of the 60th Academy Awards had already faded within the halls of the Creative Artists Agency (CAA). The focus had shifted entirely to the brutal, high-stakes releases of the upcoming summer.
In the CAA conference room, Michael Ovitz sat at the head of a granite table. Flanking him were Ron Meyer, Bill Haber, and Rowland Perkins. The agency's heavy hitters—Paula Wagner, Rick Nicita, and the veteran Martin Baum—were all present.
"The first quarter was a mixed bag for talent," Bill Haber began, opening a thick dossier. "On the winning side, we have two juggernauts that have been running since December. Good Morning, Vietnam is still dominating the comedy market, and Moonstruck is seeing a good post-Oscar surge. Both films have incredible legs and are still playing well in the theaters. We also have Beetlejuice becoming a surprise hit for Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin."
"However," Haber continued, "we have to address the underperformers. The Milagro Beanfield War, despite Robert Redford's direction, is struggling. Bright Lights, Big City is proving difficult; it seems audiences aren't ready to see Michael J. Fox in such a gritty role. We've also seen soft numbers for Vice Versa with Judge Reinhold and The Seventh Sign with Demi Moore. Even with our stars, the market is being picky."
"Let's focus on the wins," Paula Wagner said, shifting the mood. "Universal completed the wire transfer for Alex's Top Gun international backend points this morning. The funds have cleared, and CAA's commission is already processed. Alex has a clean slate as he finishes Rain Man."
"Excellent," Ovitz said, nodding. "Our priority is keeping our biggest clients happy and entirely focused on their craft. Alex's focus needs to be on his performance, not worrying about his bank account. Now, let's talk about the summer."
The discussion moved to the upcoming slate. Martin Baum leaned forward. "Eddie Murphy is our anchor for May with Beverly Hills Cop II. The buzz is massive. Between Eddie's star power and Tony Scott's direction, this should be the definitive blockbuster of the quarter."
"And then there's Die Hard in July," Ron Meyer added. "Since it's a Hayes Production, the confidence level at 20th Century Fox is through the roof. Having Alex's company produce it helped the studio overlook the risk of casting a TV lead like Bruce Willis."
The conversation then turned to the June 10 wide release of The Princess Bride. Paula Wagner delivered Alex's specific creative directive.
"Alex was very clear about the marketing strategy," Paula said, her tone firm. "He wants the footage of the grandfather and the grandson removed completely from the trailers. He feels that while those scenes make the film incredibly wholesome and give it its heart, including them in the marketing will misbrand the movie. He doesn't want the audience thinking they're buying a ticket to a 'children's movie'—he wants them to see it as an adventure."
"He's right," Rick Nicita explained."A children's movie is something parents tolerate for the sake of their kids. A family film is a four-quadrant play. It's sophisticated enough for adults to appreciate the wit, the satire, and the romance, but with enough action for the kids to stay hooked. If we show a kid in pajamas and a grandfather reading a book, we lose the teenagers and the adult couples before they even get to the theater."
Ovitz leaned back, tapping a pen against the table. "Alex is right. It's a smart distinction. If we market it as too 'soft,' the box office will suffer. Bill, reach out to the heads at Disney. Discuss the trailer cuts with them. Tell them we want to see more of the Dread Pirate Roberts and romance in the trailer. Let's make sure they understand we're selling a classic adventure, not a children's film."
As the meeting adjourned and the other agents filed out to their respective battle stations, Paula Wagner lingered. She waited until the door clicked shut, leaving her alone with Michael Ovitz in the sudden, heavy silence of the conference room.
As the other agents filed out to return to the phones, Paula Wagner remained in her seat. Michael Ovitz waited until the heavy mahogany door clicked shut before looking up from his notes.
"Is there anything else, Paula?" Ovitz asked, his voice level.
"Actually, there is," Paula replied. "A new film Alex is producing."
Ovitz paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Produced by Hayes? Why haven't I heard a word about this? We're supposed to be packaging his slate."
Paula let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "You know Alex, Michael. He'll do whatever he wants—it's his money, anyway. He kept this one quiet because it's a tiny project. A one-million-dollar production out of Ireland."
Ovitz relaxed slightly, leaning back. A million-dollar indie wasn't a threat to the agency's bottom line, but any move Alex made was worth tracking. "Alright. What is it about?"
"It's a biopic based on the life of Christy Brown," Paula explained. "He was an Irish writer and painter born with severe cerebral palsy. Alex read the autobiography, My Left Foot, and became obsessed with the story. At one point, he even considered playing the lead himself."
Ovitz looked up, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. "An able-bodied movie star playing a man with severe palsy? That's a minefield, even for someone with Alex's track record."
"The rights holder felt the same way," Paula noted. "He didn't think Alex was the right fit for the role. But Alex didn't care about the rejection—he just wanted the story told. He decided to put up the money and produce it instead."
"And who did they find for the lead?"
"Daniel Day-Lewis," Paula said.
Ovitz searched his memory for the name. He seemed to have heard it recently but couldn't quite place the face. "Day-Lewis... the name rings a bell, but I can't quite place him."
"He's getting recognition, but he hasn't had the breakout yet," Paula said. "He was in A Room with a View and My Beautiful Laundrette. Right now, he's the lead in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, which was released in February."
"I remember now," Ovitz said. "Critical darling, but the box office didn't move. And wasn't he just in Stars and Bars?"
"He was," Paula admitted.
"That was a disaster," Ovitz remarked. "A critical and commercial failure. Why is Alex so confident in this?"
"Alex doesn't trade on last weekend's box office tracking when he's evaluating a project," Paula countered. "He's seen the raw dailies coming out of Dublin. He thinks this film is going to be something special."
Ovitz considered this for a moment. Alex Hayes's instincts had built the very walls they were sitting in. "If Alex is putting his name on it, then we put our weight behind it. Contact the studios. Tell them the film is officially 'Alex Hayes Approved.' That should clear whatever hurdles they're facing with the international distributors."
Paula nodded, satisfied. "I'll handle it."
By the first week of May, the production of Rain Man was finally reaching its end. The heat of the Las Vegas sun felt different today—it felt like a finish line.
As the crew prepped the final shot, Alex sat on an equipment crate, reviewing a contract that MGM had just sent over. They were stepping in as the distributor for My Left Foot. It was a strong deal: a $2 million advance for the rights and a 25 percent stake in the box office profits. Because Alex wasn't acting, he hadn't asked for first-dollar gross, but for a million-dollar art film, the terms were a massive win.
"Checking a new contract already?"
Alex looked up to see Diane Lane standing over him, her shadow cooling the paper in his hands.
"Not for me," Alex said, tilting the paper so she could see the title. "It's a movie my company is producing."
"Is it any good?" she asked, leaning against his shoulder to get a better look.
"It's very good," Alex said confidently. "The lead actor is doing something special."
Diane smiled, nudging him with her elbow. "Well, next time you have a 'very good' film in the works, try to remember me, Alex."
"Oh, Di," Alex said, flashing the signature grin that had carried him through the last few years. "I always do."
The moment was interrupted by the booming voice of the Assistant Director. "Positions, everyone! Let's go to work!"
The crew called out for them to get into position. Alex and Diane stood up together and walked toward the lights and the cameras for the final day of Rain Man.