By early May 1989, the official financial tallies for The Princess Bride arrived, confirming a personal windfall north of $60 million for Alex. This figure was reached through a combination of a 15% first-dollar gross acting fee on a $326 million global box office ($48.9 million) and a 15% share of the distributor's net rentals after P&A (Prints and Advertising) costs ($12.4 million).
This provided him with more than enough liquid capital to bypass traditional studio financing for his next venture.
In the following days, the script for Days of Thunder—meticulously detailed and accompanied by a comprehensive production plan—circulated among the major studios under the guidance of Paula Wagner. Budgeted at $40 million, it was the most expensive project Alex had ever mounted. Despite the high price tag, the "Top Gun on Wheels" pitch ignited a fierce bidding war.
**********
At Universal Pictures, Sidney Sheinberg, the President and COO of MCA/Universal, sat in a high-stakes meeting with Chairman Tom Pollock. Having enjoyed the massive success of producing Top Gun three years prior, they viewed this script with a proprietary hunger.
"It's not just a racing movie, Sid," Pollock said, tapping the $40 million budget breakdown. "It's the Top Gun blueprint, beat for beat—but on the track. The hotshot lead, the mentor, the intense rivalry... and we even have the same director in Tony Scott. After seeing the numbers Top Gun pulled with that formula, we'd be fools to let Hayes take this to another studio."
Sheinberg, the man who famously mentored Spielberg, nodded slowly. "He's handing us a proven commercial engine. The market is starving for this kind of adrenaline. If Alex and Tony can deliver that same visceral energy on the asphalt that Scott delivered in the air, $40 million is a bargain. Make an offer Alex can't turn down."
*************
Over at MGM/UA, owner Kirk Kerkorian and Chairman Lee Rich were discussing the project with a sense of urgency. They were still feeling the sting of losing Rain Man to Paramount—a film now on its way to becoming a $500 million global phenomenon.
"We took the gamble on his indies, and it paid off," Lee Rich noted, citing the success of Sex, Lies, and Videotape and My Left Foot. "We know Alex has the vision, and those films made us look good, but we need a blockbuster. We need a tentpole that defines this studio's comeback."
Kerkorian, always a high-stakes gambler, nodded in agreement. "Paramount is getting rich off the movie we should have had. We back Alex on this, and we back him fully. Whatever you do, ensure we land this project."
***************
At Paramount Pictures, Frank Mancuso Sr. and Ned Tanen were equally determined to lock in the project. The massive profits flowing in from Rain Man had provided the studio with a significant surplus, and they saw Days of Thunder as the perfect vehicle to maintain their momentum.
Mancuso leaned back in his chair, tapping a rhythmic beat on his desk. "I've seen the latest cut of Ghost, Ned. It's coming together beautifully. The chemistry is there, the story is hitting all the right notes—it's going to be another massive win for us."
"That's exactly why we can't let him walk away," Tanen added, pacing the room with the Days of Thunder script in hand. "Alex is on a streak the likes of which we've never seen before. If Ghost hits the way we think it will, his value is going to triple overnight. Why on earth would we risk losing his next big project to a competitor when we already know he's going to succeed again?"
He paused, glancing at the budget page. "But forty million... it's a high entry price for a racing flick, Frank. It's the most expensive film Alex has ever mounted."
"Then it will make for great publicity," Mancuso countered firmly. "In the rare instance it underperforms, I don't think we can actually lose money given Alex's popularity. The floor on a Hayes film is higher than most people's ceilings. Call Paula. Tell her Paramount is ready to go the distance."
While Paramount, Universal, and MGM led the charge, the competition was not limited to them; every other major studio in town was aggressively vying to produce the project
***************
While the major studios were locked in a feverish bidding war for Days of Thunder, Alex Hayes remained remarkably detached from the frenzy.
While Paula Wagner handled the logistical grind of location scouting for Pretty Woman, Alex took personal charge of the casting.
The first to join the ensemble was Jason Alexander, cast in the role of the predatory, high-strung lawyer Philip Stuckey. At this point, Alexander was primarily known as a powerhouse of the New York stage, having just won a Tony Award for Jerome Robbins' Broadway. Alex knew Alexander's capabilities better than anyone in Hollywood; the actor was currently filming the pilot for Seinfeld, a project co-produced by Hayes Productions in partnership with Rob Reiner's Castle Rock.
Recognizing Alexander's Broadway-honed precision and his ability to project "polished aggression," Alex sent the offer directly. Alexander, eager to establish a foothold in major motion pictures, accepted the role immediately.
Next, Alex reached back into Hollywood's legacy to find the film's moral anchor. He secured Ralph Bellamy, an Oscar-winning actor of the Golden Age, to play the dignified James Morse.
In the 1930s and '40s, Ralph Bellamy became so synonymous with a specific archetype that the industry officially coined a term for it: "The Ralph Bellamy Role." This referred to the wealthy, reliable, and inherently "nice" guy who—despite his best intentions—invariably loses the girl to the more charismatic lead actor by the final reel. He perfected this persona in legendary screwball comedies like The Awful Truth (1937), where he earned an Academy Award nomination for playing the naïve oil man losing Irene Dunne to Cary Grant, and His Girl Friday (1940), where he once again played the sweet but dull foil to Grant's fast-talking editor.
In the script, James Morse is the venerable founder and head of Morse Industries, a struggling but legendary shipbuilding company. He represents a dying breed of American industry—a man who believes in building things with his hands and protecting the livelihoods of his thousands of employees.
Morse is the primary target of Edward Lewis's corporate raiding. While Edward (played by Alex) initially views Morse's company as nothing more than a collection of assets to be stripped and sold for profit, Morse serves as the film's moral compass.
For the pivotal role of Barney Thompson, the manager of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, Alex sought out Héctor Elizondo. In the script, Barney serves as the story's "Fairy Godfather"—the man who sees past Vivian's exterior and teaches her the elegance required to survive in the high-stakes world of Beverly Hills.
Prior to being cast in Pretty Woman, Héctor Elizondo had built an impeccable reputation across a diverse range of films. He first gained major recognition as the chilling Mr. Grey in the gritty thriller The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974), followed by a notable turn as a detective in the stylish American Gigolo (1980).
His career reached a new peak with his Golden Globe-nominated performance as Arthur Willis in The Flamingo Kid (1984), and he continued to showcase his range in films such as the medical satire Young Doctors in Love (1982) and the comedy-drama Nothing in Common (1986).
For the role of Kit De Luca—Vivian's street-smart and fiercely loyal best friend—Alex turned to Laura San Giacomo, who had previously worked with him in Sex, Lies, and Videotape.
The final and most critical piece of the puzzle was the title character, Vivian Ward. It was a true star-making role, requiring a rare combination of raw vulnerability, infectious charm, and razor-sharp comedic timing. For this, Alex sent the offer directly to Julia Roberts, who had recently garnered significant industry attention through Mystic Pizza.
In Alex's mind, there was no list of alternatives. He had seen her embody the character in his "visions" of the film, and he refused to entertain any other name. Despite what others might call a bias, his certainty was absolute. He had Paula Wagner place the call to her agent, Elaine Goldsmith-Thomas, at the William Morris Agency (WMA).
By May 1989, Julia Roberts was at a delicate crossroads. She had scored her first breakout success in the 1988 indie hit Mystic Pizza, where her performance as the fiery, vulnerable Daisy Araújo earned her an Independent Spirit Award nomination and landed her on every 'one to watch' list in Hollywood. While she had just finished filming Steel Magnolias—a project already generating significant industry buzz—she was still searching for the definitive role that would catapult her from a 'rising star' to a household name.
Inside the sleek offices of WMA, Elaine Goldsmith-Thomas looked at the script for Pretty Woman (then still titled 3,000) with a practiced, wary eye. She leaned across the desk toward Julia, who was already halfway through the second act.
"Julia, let's talk about the optics," Elaine said, her voice cautious. "You've built incredible momentum with Mystic Pizza, and Steel Magnolias is looking to be a heavy hitter. But this role... it's a prostitute on Hollywood Boulevard. It's risky. If the tone isn't exactly right, it could be a career-killer instead of a career-maker. I have my doubts about the subject matter for you right now."
Julia didn't look up from the page for a moment. When she finally did, her eyes were bright with a certainty that surprised even her agent. "Elaine, I want to do this. I really want to do this."
"Even with Alex Hayes directing?" Elaine challenged gently. "He's brilliant, but he's still unproven at the box office as a director. We haven't seen the numbers on Ghost yet."
"It doesn't matter," Julia countered, a wide smile breaking across her face. "I read the scenes between Vivian and Edward, and I can feel it. It's not a 'gritty street movie.' It's a fairytale. And Alex... he sent the offer directly to me. He didn't even have a backup list. And you know how accurate Alex has been in his career? The man doesn't miss."
Elaine saw the spark in her client's eyes; she knew right then that Julia wasn't going to turn this down.
"You're right," Elaine conceded, her tone shifting from skeptical to supportive. "The Hayes' Golden Touch is the strongest currency in this town. If he's betting his reputation on you, we're betting on him. It's a bold move, but it's the right one. This is the kind of project that changes everything."
Julia closed the script, her hand resting firmly on the cover. "Then tell them yes. Tell Alex I'm ready to go to work."
*************
By late May, Alex had bypassed the typically long and arduous pre-production process, relying entirely on the clarity of his 'visions' to map out the film.
This efficiency wasn't just about speed; it was a tactical financial move. By cutting down on months of standard prep work, Alex saved at least $1 million to $2 million in the budget. With the film's total budget set at $12 million, he was determined to make every cent count to ensure the final product looked like a big-studio blockbuster. By the time the final production meetings wrapped, the film was fully prepped and scheduled to begin filming in June.
As the start date approached, major news arrived from France. Sex, Lies, and Videotape had won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, and Alex was named Best Actor.
Alex was genuinely surprised. He hadn't attended the festival because he was too busy with pre-production for Pretty Woman, though MGM had pushed the film heavily in his absence. While he felt a moment of regret for not being there to accept his first major acting award in person, he stayed focused on the future. He knew there would be other opportunities, and more importantly, he knew the win would give the film the prestige it needed to reach $100 million at the domestic box office.
Note: In 1989, a win at Cannes carried more concentrated industry weight and prestige than it does in the 2020s. Before the era of social media and instant digital news, information traveled through limited channels like major newspapers and trade magazines. A win remained a primary headline for a longer period, providing the specific prestige needed to secure global distribution and transform a film's box-office potential. In an era of less media saturation, the Palme d'Or and Best Actor awards were definitive markers of success that had a direct, measurable impact on a film's market value.