While the film Top Gun was shattering box office records and establishing new benchmarks for commercial success, the accompanying soundtrack album performed equally well on the Billboard charts.
The Top Gun Original Motion Picture Soundtrack debuted with strong sales, but the film's runaway success pushed it to stratospheric heights. The album reached the No. 1 position on the Billboard 200 chart.
The two singles from the soundtrack also dominated the top of the Billboard Hot 100. "Danger Zone" by Alex Hayes—the film's infectious, propulsive opening theme climbed to the No. 1 spot on the Billboard Hot 100.
"Take My Breath Away" by Berlin—the sweeping, iconic ballad that underscored the romantic tension between Alex Hayes's character and his instructor—followed immediately behind, claiming the No. 2 spot on the Billboard Hot 100.
While Top Gun continued to dominate the box office, Alex Hayes was focused on a very different kind of fight. He was in Ireland filming The Princess Bride, specifically working on the legendary duel at the Cliffs of Insanity. The duel sequence was being filmed on location at the spectacular Cliffs of Moher in County Clare, Ireland, where the production team had structurally reinforced and modified the rock platforms to safely accommodate the rigorous, high-speed sword choreography.
For the complex sequence, Hayes (Westley) and Mandy Patinkin (Inigo Montoya) were drilling under the watchful eye of Bob Anderson. At 64 years old, Anderson was a respected figure whose fencing career dated back to the 1950s, including an appearance at the 1952 Olympics. He was silent, letting the actors push through the exhaustion of the intricate footwork and flashing blades.
Suddenly, Alex Hayes dropped his rapier tip to the floor and held up a hand.
Mandy Patinkin came to a dead stop, his chest heaving with exertion. He frowned, wiping the stinging sweat from his left eye with the sleeve of his costume. "What is it?" he asked, his chest heaving with the exertion of the non-stop, intricate drill.
Alex didn't answer Mandy directly. He raised a single finger, signaling for a moment of patience, then turned and walked toward Bob Anderson, who was standing beside a prop table, resting his chin on his cane, watching intently. Alex glanced back at Mandy and tilted his head, indicating he should follow.
"Bob, can we talk about the fight for a minute?" Alex asked, his voice steady.
Bob Anderson raised an eyebrow, his posture still relaxed but his attention now fully engaged. "What is the issue, Alex? Something wrong with the choreography?"
"No, the choreography is brilliant." Alex affirmed. "But look at what we're doing. In every take we've done, my sword hand moves, and it looks like I'm aiming for the middle of Mandy's sword. And he's aiming for mine. It feels too choreographed—though it is a film, we need the fight to look genuinely reactive and focused on winning."
Alex turned back to Anderson. "I need the choreography to emphasize that every swing is an attack intended to defeat the opponent, aimed at the body. We are two masters trading blows of respect. Every parry must feel like a last-second, desperate deflection of a fatal blow. The swords should only meet as a consequence of blocking, not as the primary target—right now, it looks like two friends performing a highly rehearsed dance, where the goal is to touch blades, not to score a hit."
Mandy Patinkin stepped closer, nodding emphatically. "It has the flair, but it lacks the substance. It's beautiful to watch, but you don't believe we're actually fighting."
Anderson paused, considering the proposal. "That is the essence of real fencing, Alex. You're absolutely right. But this is a romantic comedy. If we choreograph it with that much raw, lethal intent, we risk making the fight inconsistent with the overall tone of the film, which is supposed to be witty and light, not grim."
Alex nodded thoughtfully. "That's why we meet in the middle. The choreography should commit to aiming for non-lethal strikes—like the shoulder, the arm, or the legs—to subdue or defeat the opponent, not kill them. This maintains the intensity and respect of two masters fighting to win. And the witty dialogue woven throughout the fight keeps the overall tone light. The audience gets the thrilling spectacle of two men fighting for dominance, but the humor keeps it firmly in the world of romantic comedy."
"The logic is sound, Alex. I agree it will elevate the scene, but I need to talk to Rob about making such a significant change to the established boards," Anderson said.
"Let me worry about Rob," Alex replied, waving a hand dismissively. "You just need to make the fight look real, but fun. Let's run the sequence with the new intent."
"Well, you are the star, aren't you? Whatever you say," Anderson joked, tapping the ground with his foil.
"Well, you are the star, aren't you? Whatever you say," Anderson joked, tapping the ground with his foil.
Patinkin grinned, twirling his sword dramatically. "Aiming for the body. I can work with that."
Bob Anderson nodded decisively. "Alright, let's remap this sequence." The three men immediately huddled, swords drawn, beginning the work of rebuilding the duel.
*********
Alex's pitch to Rob Reiner—that the fight needed to be treated like a high-stakes chess match but with witty dialogue—had won the director over instantly. Reiner, always focused on delivering a timeless fairy tale, recognized that this approach would ground the action while elevating the script's humor.
It took three grueling days and countless takes to capture the scene, a sequence of choreography that was the longest and most complex Alex had ever attempted. But it was worth the effort. The duel was choreographed precisely as Alex had envisioned: every move was aimed to injure or disable the opponent without actually trying to kill, fostering a deep, non-verbal respect between the two masters. The intricate footwork and the speed of the blades were balanced perfectly by the constant, hilarious stream of witty dialogue, keeping the tone light.
In the final, exhausted take, Alex, as Westley, delivered the decisive blow: a swift flick of the wrist that sent Mandy Patinkin's rapier flying from his hand before striking him lightly on the head with the pommel, rendering him unconscious.
"Cut! Cut! It's perfect!" Rob Reiner shouted from behind the monitor. Reiner let out a whoop of triumph and leaned back, giving a long, slow nod of appreciation.
Alex extended a hand to Mandy, pulling his co-star back to his feet. He then looked directly toward the director's tent. "How's that?" he asked.
Reiner beamed. "That was fantastic, Alex! We got it. That take has everything we needed. It looks absolutely great. Really great work from both of you."
Alex grinned at Reiner and offered a crisp, two-finger salute.
He looked over at Alex. "Thank God it's over," he said, shaking his head. "Three days of that, I'm absolutely exhausted."
Alex nodded, agreeing with him instantly. "Tell me about it. Maybe I shouldn't have asked Bob to make it so real and intense."
Mandy smiled. "But you're satisfied, right?"
Alex grinned broadly at the question. "Damn right I am satisfied."
Alex's attention shifted and his eyes scanned the perimeter for his family, who were supposed to be watching the filming from the side of the set.
He had planned this filming schedule to double as a family vacation; his father John, Martha, and his spirited six-year-old half-sister Sofia had joined him in Ireland two days prior, after touring England.
"Alex! Alex!" Sofia came running toward him.
He picked her up and settled her on his hip. She had olive-toned skin from the mixed heritage of her father, John (who is white), and her mother, Martha (who is black).
"How do I look, little sis?" Alex asked, chuckling.
"You look so cooooool," she said, stretching out the word.
Alex ruffled her hair, a warm smile touching his lips.
"Where are Dad and Martha?" Alex asked.
"They are talking with Robin," Sofia said, pointing toward them.
Alex followed her finger and found his parents talking to Robin Wright.
"Alex, is Robin your girlfriend?" Sofia suddenly asked.
Alex looked at her. "Where did you learn that word?"
"I am a big girl. I know words," she replied, trying to look mature.
Alex laughed. "Yes, you are a big girl. But she is not my girlfriend, and she is married."
"Oh," she said, with a disappointed look.
"Why the disappointing look? Did you want her to be my girlfriend?" Alex questioned.
She nodded up and down.
"Why?"
"Because she looks like a princess," Sofia said with stars in her eyes.
Alex shook his head. Well, girls love pretty things, he thought, and moved toward his family.