The sun set over the Sierra Nevada as the sleek, newly acquired Cessna Citation III (Model 650) sliced silently through the air, carrying Alex Hayes from Los Angeles toward Texas. This aircraft was Cessna's first foray into the high-performance, mid-sized jet market in the 1980s, designed to combine long range with executive comfort. Seated opposite Alex was his friend, Robert Downey Jr., who was currently dozing soundly, and Robert's girlfriend, Sarah Jessica Parker, had been invited but couldn't make the trip. Next to Alex sat Mia Sara.
The Citation III is known for its distinctive supercritical swept wing and T-tail design, powered by two reliable Garrett TFE731-3B turbofan engines, capable of cruising at high altitudes (up to 51,000 feet) and speeds up to 544 mph. Its cabin, measuring 5.7 feet high, was a key feature, allowing passengers to stand up comfortably.
The aircraft's interior was configured for a high-end double club arrangement, the most common setup for the Citation III, which typically seats eight passengers. The layout featured two sets of opposing pairs of seats, facing each other with executive tables in between, fostering easy conversation. The seats were upholstered in deep, supple cream-colored leather, contrasting with the dark walnut cabinetry that housed a refreshment center.
The aircraft cost Alex approximately $6 million—a steep price, but one he viewed as essential.
Seated at a finely polished executive table, Alex was down at a printout of his annual financial summary. He ran a finger across the bold, bottom-line figure. The success of major films like Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Say Anything..., combined with steady residuals from his earlier work, had resulted in net earnings of almost $25 million in the previous year alone, after all taxes and commissions. It was an astronomical figure for a young actor, even one as successful as Alex.
He had strategically placed $8 million into Microsoft IPO shares and another $6 million into Oracle IPO shares. These were the smart, long-term moves that secured his future far beyond Hollywood's fickle lights.
Alex leaned back, resting the financial report on the leather seat beside him. He felt a light tap on his hand. Mia, who had been engrossed in a thick stack of CAA-collected review reports for Platoon, smiled at him.
"Take a look," she murmured, passing the reports across the table.
He took the reviews, the weight of the paper feeling heavy with expectation. The critical consensus was overwhelmingly positive.
Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times "This is not just a film, but a moral furnace. Director Oliver Stone has given us the Vietnam experience in agonizing detail, but it is Alex Hayes's central performance—a searing portrait of lost innocence—that makes the film truly unbearable, and thus, essential. Hayes has proven his range is not merely broad, but profound."
Gene Siskel, Chicago Tribune "The emotional core of Platoon rests on Hayes's shoulders. He begins as a boy and ends as a ravaged man, charting that traumatic growth with believable, heartbreaking clarity. It's an immense leap from his previous work and confirms he is a serious, generational talent."
Vincent Canby, The New York Times "Oliver Stone's brutally visceral film has found its perfect anchor in Alex Hayes. The actor's transition from the breezy, charming protagonist of high school comedies to the numb, conflicted infantryman Chris Taylor is the most stunning piece of career reinvention this year. He delivers a performance of remarkable control."
Sheila Benson, Los Angeles Times "Hayes's performance is a marvel of understatement. The terror, the moral confusion, and the eventual resignation are all written plainly on his face, a raw canvas for the madness Stone depicts. "
David Denby, New York Magazine "A masterpiece of ensemble acting. Oliver Stone masterfully handles the chaos, but it is Alex Hayes who gives the audience eyes in the jungle. His arc from idealistic fool to vengeful soldier is startlingly real and utterly convincing."
Alex skimmed the glowing praise, then moved on to the dissenting reviews.
Stanley Kauffmann, The New Republic "The film often descends into melodrama, relying too heavily on the archetypal conflict between good (Elias) and evil (Barnes) rather than exploring the true ambiguity of combat. The protagonist's final acts feel engineered for dramatic payoff."
Pauline Kael, The New Yorker "While intense, the picture is almost too chaotic, sacrificing narrative coherence for sensory overload. One is left exhausted rather than illuminated."
He pushed the negative clippings aside. "Can't satisfy everybody," he thought.
What truly mattered was the audience's response. Platoon had achieved an 'A' Cinemascore—the gold standard of audience approval. Furthermore, the Friday box office, including previews, had hit $8.9 million against a modest production budget of only $6 million. The film was guaranteed to break even in its first weekend.
The numbers affirmed his belief. Alex knew instinctively by his gut—and yes, by the uncanny premonitions of his dreams—that Platoon was going to be a good film, perhaps even a great one. But seeing the validation in the audience's appreciation and the hard numbers gave him a deep, profound satisfaction.
Mia looked at his contented expression, a mix of relief and triumph. "You look like the cat that ate the canary."
"Maybe I am," Alex chuckled, stretching his arms.
"It's not your first time, though. This kind of success should just be the norm for you."
"Success is one thing you never tire of, Mia, if you love your work." Alex replied.
Alex, however, shifted his focus, looking over at Robert Downey Jr., whose heavy sleep looked less like rest and more like exhaustion. Alex observed the visible fatigue, signs of chronic marijuana use, and suspected Robert was using other drugs as well. He had practically demanded this two-week break in Texas, personally checking to ensure no drugs or marijuana were among Robert's luggage.
Mia, sensing his troubled expression, placed a hand on his arm. "Rob will be better. Don't worry."
Alex shook his head. "I'm not sure. He's coming because of me and Sarah, but the choice to stop has to be his own. I don't know if Robert truly wants that yet."
"You are a really good friend," Mia said, her gaze filled with deep, sincere admiration.
"Well, I try to be," Alex replied, giving her a small smile as he turned to the window.
He was anxious for the plane to reach Texas not only for Robert's sake but for his own; the relentless pace of his career had created a noticeable distance between him and Mia. The two weeks weren't just about intervention; they were a mandatory retreat—a time to reconnect with Mia and spend quality time with his family.
Approximately three and a half hours later, the Cessna descended gracefully on the small, private airstrip that Alex had recently commissioned and built on their land specifically for the plane, ensuring the short runway did not encroach on the valuable Texas farmland.
As the aircraft door opened and Alex stepped out, he was instantly enveloped by the sight of his family waiting for them: his parents, John and Martha, his five-year-old sister Sofia, and his aunt and uncle, Nancy and Edward, with their daughter Janet. Looking at their familiar, loving faces Alex felt the unmistakable, comforting embrace of truly being home.