While Alex settled into the rhythm of pre-production in Los Angeles, the casting department he had assembled was already scrambling to fill out the ensemble for Top Gun. The search for the supporting naval aviators—the men who would fly alongside and often antagonize Alex's central character—was crucial. Alex needed strong, contrasting talent, not just anonymous faces.
The script for the role of LT Tom "Iceman" Kazansky was sent to Val Kilmer.
Kilmer was not a client of CAA, but his name was high on the list Nancy had sent to Paula Wagner. At twenty-six, Kilmer was known for his intense dedication to method acting and had a reputation for choosing roles with significant dramatic weight. When the Top Gun script landed on his coffee table, his reaction was one of immediate and profound dislike.
He skimmed the pages, shaking his head. The dialogue was thin, reliant on clichés and acronyms. The plot felt like a thinly veiled recruitment advertisement. He tossed the script onto his sofa with a sigh.
"It's a cartoon," he muttered to his agent, Peter, during their subsequent call. "A silly, jingoistic cartoon. The theme is so overtly warmongering it makes to throw the script in the trash can. Honestly, Peter, why are we even looking at this? I just did serious theater. I want to build a career on substance."
Peter, a seasoned agent who understood that substance didn't always pay the bills, let Val vent for a full minute before cutting in.
"Val, listen to me. I understand your artistic concerns. But you are looking at this script as a standalone piece of literature. You need to look at it as a financial and career vehicle."
"A vehicle for what? For flying planes and delivering cheesy lines." Val scoffed.
"A vehicle for exposure," Peter countered sharply. "This film is going to be massive. You are looking at a starring role opposite Alex Hayes—the biggest box office phenomenon right now in industry. This isn't just a supporting role; it's the role that defines the hero."
Peter paused, letting the magnitude of the name sink in. "And here is the crucial point you are missing: The script may read silly, but it has been approved by Alex. He is the one who just negotiated a contract based on the belief that this film will gross over three hundred million dollars worldwide."
"The kid has the Midas touch, Val. That's not hype; it's a track record of twelve consecutive hits. Alex knows what the audience wants. You don't have to believe in the script, Val. You have to believe in the business judgment of Alex Hayes. This is the exposure that turns a respected young actor into a household name, capable of greenlighting your own passion projects down the road."
The argument was pragmatic, brutal, and undeniably true. Kilmer recognized the logic of it instantly. It was a trade: a temporary concession to populism for long-term power. He hated the script, but he could not argue with the financial gravity of the man attached to it.
"Fine," Kilmer sighed, the surrender heavy in his voice. "I'll read for it."
Meanwhile, the choice of director had been secured. Alex had personally selected Tony Scott, the younger brother of acclaimed director Ridley Scott. Up until 1986, Tony Scott had primarily built his reputation on directing visually stunning, high-octane television commercials. While his feature film debut, the stylish vampire film The Hunger (1983), hadn't been a commercial smash, Alex loved its polished, slick look. Alex felt instinctively that Tony was the perfect for the project, certain that Tony's aggressive, fast-paced style could deliver the visceral action the film demanded.
The audition for Iceman was held on the Universal Studios lot. The key decision-makers in the room were director Tony Scott and producers Jerry Bruckheimer and Don Simpson. Alex was not present, a testament to his confidence; he was already certain Val Kilmer was the perfect choice for the role.
Val Kilmer attended the audition, reading his lines with the precise, icy indifference he felt toward the script. That indifference, however, was precisely what Tony Scott, Bruckheimer, and Simpson needed for the character. The producers instantly recognized the perfect, cold foil to Alex's character.
"That's it," Simpson said simply. "He's Iceman."
The selection was immediate, decided in one round. Val Kilmer, who despised the material and had to be dragged to the meeting by his agent, was hired instantly. He was now officially signed on to play the cool, formidable adversary, a move that would define the next stage of his career, whether he liked the theme or not.
The first critical piece of casting was locked down.
The next critical role to fill was the film's female lead and romantic interest: Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood, the astrophysicist instructor. This role required a unique combination of intelligence, authority, and allure.
Alex initially considered Kelly McGillis. The decision was based on Alex's vivid dreams where he saw her in that role. An invitation was extended, and a screen test was quickly arranged.
However, once the audition started—with Alex reading opposite McGillis—a crucial problem became immediately apparent: there was absolutely no romantic chemistry between the two actors. The dynamic felt strained, professional, and lacked the spark needed for the central relationship to work. It was a major setback, forcing Alex to override his dream and restart the search for his leading lady.
The failure of the screen test launched an immediate, exhaustive search for the right chemistry. Several prominent young actresses were considered for the role, including Diane Lane, Ally Sheedy, Debra Winger, Jodie Foster, Daryl Hannah, and Sarah Jessica Parker. After an intensive round of readings and discussions, the field was finally narrowed down to three finalists: Demi Moore, Madeleine Stowe, and Andie MacDowell.
The final decision meeting was convened quickly. In attendance were the key figures: Alex, director Tony Scott, and producers Jerry Bruckheimer and Don Simpson. Recognizing the importance of the romantic lead, Alex asked Nancy and Paula Wagner to join them, ensuring they had a female perspective.
The first of the finalists to be eliminated was Andie MacDowell. While undeniably charming, the general consensus among them was that she was too cute and soft for the role. Charlie Blackwood needed to project a high degree of intelligence, authority, and professional superiority over the naval aviators she was instructing. MacDowell's warm, approachable demeanor didn't convey the necessary superiority.
The discussion between the final two contenders—Demi Moore and Madeleine Stowe—was intense, quickly dividing the room along commercial and aesthetic lines. Don Simpson and Paula Wagner favored Moore, citing her rapidly rising profile and clear commercial appeal. Conversely, Nancy and Tony Scott leaned toward Stowe, believing she possessed a more nuanced, sophisticated quality that made her a more credible and authoritative instructor, despite her less established career. Jerry Bruckheimer, pragmatic as ever, voiced that he was comfortable with either decision, so long as the production could move forward.
All eyes eventually turned to Alex, the final arbiter. He looked at each person, absorbing their arguments, then nodded decisively.
"Call Madeleine Stowe's agent," he said simply.
Paula Wagner immediately moved to action. Though Alex had selected the opposite of her preference, she was completely reconciled; Alex was her main client, and his conviction was paramount.
Don Simpson, however, was not so easily reconciled. He frowned, pushing back from the table. "Wait, Alex. Why? Moore is not a huge star yet but has several commercial hits. She's the safer, more bankable choice. Why did you make that decision?"
Alex looked directly at the producer, his expression calm. "Because I thought she is perfect. She looks more mature than Demi and embodies both warmth and authority in the auditions. We need that maturity for this character to feel like Maverick's instructor, not just his girlfriend."
He opened his mouth, ready to launch a counter-argument on the commercial viability of the decision, but the words stopped on his tongue. Though both Don and Jerry were successful producers, Alex had the final say in the decisions, and the Universal studios were clearly on Alex's side. Simpson let the argument die and simply stayed silent.
The decision was sealed. Madeleine Stowe was officially cast as Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood.
With the two most critical roles — Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood and LT Tom "Iceman" Kazansky — now complete, the final casting moved with incredible speed. Anthony Edwards was quickly secured to play LTJG Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Maverick's best friend and Radar Intercept Officer.
Equally critical was the casting of CDR Mike "Viper" Metcalf, the commanding officer and instructor of Top Gun. For this role, the experienced character actor Tom Skerritt was immediately finalized. Skerritt's quiet authority and rugged presence were ideal for the character, a Vietnam War veteran who had served alongside Maverick's own father, Duke Mitchell. The rest of the supporting aviator roles were quickly finalized, rounding out the ensemble cast with efficiency.
By the time the final contracts were signed and the main cast was secured, May had ended and June was beginning.
In other news, Alex's recently released romantic comedy, Say Anything..., had collected $96.43 million domestically, making it a foregone conclusion that it would cross the coveted $100 million domestic mark. Universal Studios, with this news, became even more eager to accelerate the start of filming.
Alex, capitalizing on this momentum, issued a critical mandate: he wanted the actors playing naval aviators to experience real flying time in actual fighter jets with the U.S. Navy, as they would be filming the cockpit scenes inside the actual aircraft.