The runaway success of 10 Things I Hate About You demanded celebration. Paramount Pictures threw a lavish party at a chic Beverly Hills venue in late November 1982 to toast the film, which was still dominating the box office charts. The atmosphere was electric. Director John Hughes held court, accepting congratulations, while the film's young stars – Helen Hunt, Diane Lane, John Cusack, and others – mingled, radiating the glow of being in a certified smash hit.
Power players circulated through the glittering crowd. CAA titans Michael Ovitz and Rowland Perkins navigated the room with practiced ease, flanked by ambitious younger actors hoping to catch an influential eye. Paramount chiefs Barry Diller and Michael Eisner beamed, their gamble on the film paying off spectacularly. Lurking near them, largely unnoticed by the general crowd, was a man in his mid-30s with an observant air.
Alex Hayes, looking relaxed in a sharp suit, arrived with Phoebe Cates on his arm. They were immediately enveloped by well-wishers. Barry Diller raised a champagne flute. "To Alex Hayes!" he announced, his voice carrying over the din. "And to 10 Things I Hate About You – his fifth consecutive hit! Congratulations, Alex!" Glasses clinked all around as Alex acknowledged the toast with a modest smile.
Amidst the congratulations, Rowland Perkins pulled Alex aside for a moment. "Alex, fantastic work. Truly. And listen," Perkins said warmly, "I wanted to personally thank you again for making it to my youngest daughter Alexandra's birthday party last month. It meant the world to her. All three of my girls – Kamala, Dahra, and Alex – they're huge fans. Talk about you constantly."
"It was my pleasure, Rowland. Honestly, not a big deal," Alex replied sincerely.
Just then, Michael Ovitz subtly caught Alex's eye and nodded towards a quieter side room. "Alex, they're ready for us. We have that meeting."
Alex nodded, gave Phoebe's temple a quick kiss, and followed Ovitz. Inside the private room waited Barry Diller, Michael Eisner, and the observant man from the party. Alex's agent, Aunt Nancy, joined them, closing the door behind her.
"Alex," Eisner began, gesturing to the man, "this is Dean Pitchford."
Alex shook his hand. He knew Pitchford's background – Broadway performer turned successful lyricist for Fame.
"Dean has written an incredible script," Barry Diller picked up, "one we're very excited about. It's called Footloose. We sent it over to Nancy."
Nancy nodded. "Alex read it. We discussed it."
All eyes turned to Alex. "It's... interesting," Alex said carefully. "Some scenes might seem a little silly on the page, the whole 'town that banned dancing' premise. But there's a great energy to it. It has real potential. A lot of heart." He paused. "I'll do it."
A collective sigh of relief went through Diller, Eisner, and Pitchford.
"But," Alex continued, holding up a hand, "there are some conditions." Barry Diller and Michael Eisner nodded; this was expected. Nancy shifted slightly, ready.
Eisner began outlining the conditions.
"Condition one," Eisner stated. "The film obviously requires a strong soundtrack. Alex wants the first option to sing all the lead male vocals. He'll record demos; if the studio or producers aren't satisfied, you can bring in another singer. But he gets first shot."
Diller raised an eyebrow slightly. "Singing the whole soundtrack? That's ambitious, Alex."
Nancy interjected smoothly, "Alex has been working with vocal coaches, Barry. He's more than capable. Plus, the rejection clause protects everyone."
Eisner nodded. "Fair enough. Agreed."
"Condition two," Eisner went on. "Paramount offered two million dollars upfront for the role of Ren McCormack. Alex proposes one million upfront, plus five percent of the domestic gross receipts. First dollar, not net profits."
This drew a more visible reaction. Diller exchanged a sharp look with Eisner. "Five percent of gross, Alex?" Diller said, his tone carefully neutral but hinting at the significance. "That's... aggressive. Very few deals are structured that way."
Eisner leaned forward slightly. "It essentially makes you a significant partner in the film's revenue from the very first ticket sold. That's a big stake."
Nancy met their gaze evenly. "Gentlemen, Alex is delivering unprecedented, consistent box office returns. 10 Things is looking like it could hit nine figures domestically. He's driving audiences in a way almost no one else can right now. The deal reflects that proven value and mutual participation in the success he generates."
Diller and Eisner remained silent for a beat, acknowledging the point without conceding. They knew negotiations would follow.
"Condition three," Eisner concluded, moving on. "Alex wants collaborative input on some minor script changes. Character moments, dialogue tweaks. Nothing structural."
Dean Pitchford shifted uncomfortably. It was his first screenplay. Alex addressed him directly. "Dean, I love the core story. Ren's journey is fantastic. My thoughts are just about ensuring his voice feels completely authentic, maybe tweaking a line here or there to fit how I'm hearing him. We'll discuss any ideas I have. If you don't agree, we talk it through. It's a cooperation." He met Pitchford's eyes. "Your vision is what got us all here; I want to make sure that translates fully to the screen."
Nancy added, "Alex always respects the writer's vision, Dean. It's about enhancing, not altering."
Barry Diller offered a reassuring nod. "Collaboration is key, Dean. We trust Alex's instincts, and we know you'll both work to make it the best it can be."
Pitchford considered this, the assurance, the collaborative framing, and finally nodded his agreement.
The meeting concluded shortly after, handshakes exchanged, the deal essentially set pending the negotiation on point two.
As Alex, Nancy, and Michael Ovitz walked out of the room and down the hallway, Nancy let out a breath. "Five percent of gross, Alex? Straight out of the gate? That's a huge ask, even for you right now. Are you sure they'll actually go for that during the negotiation?"
Alex simply smiled, a quiet confidence in his eyes, and turned slightly towards Ovitz. "What do you think, Michael?"
Ovitz, the master strategist, allowed a rare, knowing smile to touch his lips. He adjusted his tie slightly. "Oh, they will, Nancy," he said, his voice smooth and certain. "They will." He knew Paramount wouldn't risk losing Alex Hayes now, not with the momentum he had. The price of securing Hollywood's hottest star had just been set.
*****
For the next two weeks, while Alex handled lingering promotional duties, CAA and Paramount hammered out the details of his compensation for Footloose. During that time, 10 Things I Hate About You continued its remarkable run.
* Week 4 Gross: The film added an incredible $10.12 million.
* Week 5 Gross: It followed up with another strong $8.89 million.
After five weeks, the total domestic collection stood at a staggering $75.74 million ($56.73M + $10.12M + $8.89M). Industry trades were now buzzing with speculation: could the film actually cross the mythical $100 million mark domestically?
Seeing these sustained numbers, Paramount executives finalized the Footloose deal. They agreed to a tiered percentage structure for Alex: if Footloose crossed $50 million domestic, he'd get 3% of the gross. If it crossed $60 million, 3.5%. For every additional $10 million milestone it crossed, his percentage would increase by 0.5%, topping out at the requested 5% if the film grossed $90 million or more.
They didn't think it was an excessive gamble. Other stars were demanding $4 or $5 million upfront, regardless of whether the film succeeded or failed. With Alex, they paid less upfront and tied his biggest payday to the film's actual success – success they increasingly believed his popularity could guarantee. If Footloose became another $100 million+ phenomenon because of Alex, paying him 5% of the gross would still leave the studio with enormous profits. The deal was done.