Alex chose to push the Ovitz matter to the back of his mind, focusing entirely on his performance as Graham Dalton. The work provided a steady routine, allowing him to compartmentalize the industry politics waiting for him in Los Angeles.
While Alex remained immersed in production, The Princess Bride continued its remarkable theatrical run. In its third weekend, the film grossed $12.8 million, notably outperforming Disney's other major summer release, Who Framed Roger Rabbit—a noir-inspired blend of live-action and animation where a detective must clear a cartoon rabbit of a murder charge.
The momentum stayed consistent through the weekdays, pulling in an additional $8.9 million as positive word-of-mouth drew in repeat viewers. By the fourth weekend, a new challenger arrived in the form of Paramount Pictures' Coming to America, a comedy about an African prince who travels undercover to Queens, New York, to find a woman who will love him for himself.
Opening over the four-day July 4th holiday weekend, the Eddie Murphy vehicle claimed the top spot with a massive $21.4 million. Despite losing the crown, The Princess Bride showed its usual resilience, grossing $11.7 million over the holiday stretch. With another $5.7 million earned during the remaining weekdays, the film's domestic total reached $116 million in just four weeks.
The film's international performance was equally impressive, grossing $88.7 million in overseas territories. This brought its total worldwide cume to $204.7 million, officially confirming its status as the definitive blockbuster of the summer.
During a break between setups, Steven Soderbergh looked over the trades and whistled. "Big numbers, Alex. You're having quite a summer."
Alex set the paper aside, his expression calm. "The numbers will stay strong as long as I don't fail the audience's trust. As long as I keep delivering, the next films will bear the fruits of this success."
"So," Steven asked, leaning against a camera dolly, "how do you see the box office chances for our film?"
Alex took a moment to think, then shook his head slightly. "It's difficult to tell."
Steven raised his eyebrows, surprised by the hesitation. "Difficult?"
Alex smiled. "Don't get me wrong—it's going to be successful. But it's not going to be a blockbuster. Even I have my limitations. For a film like this, the most I can hope for is $65 to $70 million domestic. Maybe $100 million worldwide."
Steven's jaw practically dropped. He stared at Alex for a beat, speechless.
"What?" Alex asked, noticing the expression.
"Man," Steven said with a wry smile, "the definition of success for you and me is very different. Before you joined, I was hoping that if this film reached ten million domestic, it would be a miracle. After you signed on, I thought maybe thirty or forty million was possible. But your expectations are way past that." He paused. "And do you really think it'll even get an overseas release?"
"Whoever buys the distribution rights will definitely release it," Alex replied confidently. "It will do especially well in European markets. They appreciate these types of character-driven, dialogue-heavy stories."
Steven nodded, inspired by the scale of Alex's vision. "Then we'd better do our part to earn those numbers. Let's get back to it."
********
The production of Sex, Lies, and Videotape moved with surgical precision, wrapping principal photography in exactly four weeks. At a quiet wrap party on the final night, Alex stood before the cast and crew, raising a glass of sparkling champagne.
"I know my presence here made some of you uncomfortable at first," Alex began, his voice warm and self-deprecating. "I had hoped that after a month of working together, you'd all realize I'm just another actor. And that I don't breathe fire, and I certainly don't shoot lasers from my eyes."
The room erupted in laughter, the month-long tension of working alongside a global superstar finally evaporating.
"In all seriousness," Alex continued, his tone turning sincere. "I wish you all the success in the world with this film. You've more than earned it."
"If even half the myths about you are true, Alex," Peter Gallagher called out with a grin, "then we're already successful."
"Hear, hear!" the crew echoed, the sentiment rippling through the room.
Alex nodded toward Peter. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." He then turned to Andie MacDowell and Laura San Giacomo. "And I'm going to miss both of you beautiful women."
Andie smirked, crossing her arms. "Liar. I bet you say that to every co-star."
"I'm sure you'll be far too busy to even remember our names by next week," Laura added playfully.
Alex smiled, looking entirely unbothered. "True enough. But you didn't have to call out my lie in front of everyone." The room laughed again, but Alex's expression softened as his gaze swept across the entire cast and crew. "But truly, I heartily wish every one of you here tonight immense success in your careers. This was a special shoot."
As he finished, someone at the back of the room raised his glass high. "To Alex!" he shouted. In an instant, the entire cast and crew followed suit, raising their glasses in a collective, booming toast in his honor, a rare moment of genuine respect for a man they had expected to be a "diva."
Before leaving, Alex pulled Steven Soderbergh aside. "Steve, if you need any help with post-production of the film contact Paula or Nancy. They have instructions to help you get this to the finish line."
"Thank you, Alex. I mean it," Steven said, shaking his hand firmly. "What's next for you?"
"I need to take care of something in LA," Alex replied cryptically.
*********
Alex left Louisiana in his private jet and arrived in Los Angeles. His first stop wasn't his home, but the imposing headquarters of CAA. He walked through the marble lobby and straight into Paula Wagner's office.
Paula looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn't expected him today. Normally, her assistant would have buzzed her, but Alex had a standing "open-door" privilege that Paula now realized left her dangerously unprepared. She wasn't ready to face him yet.
"Hi, Alex," she said tentatively.
Alex didn't respond. He sat in the leather chair opposite her desk and simply waited. Ten minutes of heavy, suffocating silence passed. Alex didn't fidget, check his watch, or look angry; he simply existed in the space, letting the tension fill the room until Paula finally broke.
"Alex, please," she said, her voice strained. "What are you going to do? Are we going to see Mike? Are you going to confront him? Just tell me what your plan is."
"I'm going to do nothing, Paula," Alex said calmly.
Paula blinked, momentarily stunned. "Nothing? Nothing?"
"Exactly. Absolutely nothing."
"After he pulled the rug out from under you on the Stone project?" Paula asked, her confusion growing. "Alex, he effectively blocked you."
"If I walk into his office and confront him, I give him exactly what he wants," Alex explained, his voice steady. "I give him the satisfaction of knowing he affected me. I give him the validation that his power move worked. I won't give him that."
"So you're just going to let it go?" Paula asked, leaning forward.
"Not exactly," Alex replied, a small, cold smile touching his lips. "I want him to understand that he doesn't control my career. I want to show him that his 'vision' for what makes a hit is fallible."
Paula frowned. "How do you propose to do that?"
"I'm going to act in a film that he thinks is a disaster—something he believes has zero chance of success," Alex said. "I want a script he has already looked at and dismissed as a failure."
Paula stared at him in horror. "Are you insane? You want to sabotage your own career just to spite a man? You can't just throw your career away by betting on a pile of garbage."
"Don't be silly, Paula. Mike Ovitz is many things, but he isn't a fortune teller. He doesn't know what will hit or flop; he only knows what fits his traditional mold of success. He makes mistakes like anyone else, but he only realizes them after the box office numbers come in."
Alex leaned in, his gaze intense. "I want to find the project he rejected as 'silly' or 'unworkable.' I want to take the script he threw in the trash and turn it into a tremendous success. That is how you truly humble a man like Mike. You don't yell at him—you make him realize his judgment is obsolete."
Paula took a deep breath. It was a suicidal move—but looking at the man who had never failed, she found it hard to bet against him.
"You want me to dig through the 'rejected' pile?" she asked softly.
"Exactly," Alex said, standing up. "Find me the scripts the agency thinks are beneath me. Find me the one Mike laughed at."
Paula sighed, a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration crossing her face. "I'll see what I can find. But Alex... if this backfires, the fallout won't just be on Mike. It'll be on you."
"It won't backfire," Alex said, reaching for the door. He had absolute confidence in his visions; he was certain that among the garbage, he would find a piece of gold.