Following its strong opening weekend, Say Anything... collected an additional $15.2 million in the next four days. This brought its total gross for the first week to a phenomenal $38.9 million.
The following weekend, the film grossed $14.23 million, experiencing a decline of about 40% from its opening weekend.
While this drop was steeper than other Alex Hayes films, it was still strong enough to keep Say Anything... at the top of the weekend box office. The drop was attributed to the film's different tone; though it was a high school film, the focus was on the intimate relationships between two main characters. It was not as broadly funny or melodramatic as his other films, which may have affected its mass appeal.
In the next four days, the film collected an additional $7.13 million, bringing its two-week total gross to $60.26 million.
In its third weekend it collected $8.51 million, a drop of about 40% from the previous weekend. It grossed an additional $4.89 million over the next four days, bringing its total three-week box office gross to $73.66 million.
In its fourth weekend, from April 18-20, Say Anything... grossed $5.05 million, experiencing a drop of about 41% from the previous weekend. It added another $2.81 million over the next four days, bringing its total domestic gross to $81.52 million.
The film had now topped the box office for four consecutive weekends. Though it was beginning to lose steam, its impressive performance made it highly likely to cross the coveted $100 million mark domestically.
Even as Say Anything... was running successfully in theaters, its star, Alex Hayes, had already traded the sunny glow of Hollywood for the cold, gritty streets of Chicago. There, he was already immersed in his next project: Martin Scorsese's The Color of Money.
The scene inside the old Chicago pool hall was heavy with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and chalk dust, was cut through by the bright lights of the film set. Over the next few days, they would be moving from hall to hall, capturing the gritty atmosphere of the city's pool scene.
On set, the legendary Paul Newman, reprising his role as the aging master Fast Eddie Felson, moved with a quiet, practiced grace. Opposite him was Alex, completely transformed into the cocky, young prodigy Vincent Lauria. Both actors were committed to authenticity. They were doing their own pool shots for the cameras. Only for the most difficult and complex trick shots were professionals brought in to perform, ensuring the on-screen action was nothing short of spectacular.
From behind the camera, Martin Scorsese watched with a deep sense of satisfaction. The chemistry between his two leads was proving to be nothing short of phenomenal. The on-screen dynamic between the wise, seasoned Fast Eddie and the brash, young Vincent was electric. Scorsese knew he had captured something special, a passing of the torch from a cinematic legend to a rising star.
Another crucial character in the film was Carmen, Vincent's confident and street-smart girlfriend, portrayed by Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. Carmen was a sharp contrast to Vincent's youthful bravado. She wasn't blinded by his raw talent or his cocky demeanor; in fact, she saw right through it.
Until 1986, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio was primarily a stage actress, well-known for her dramatic performances and soprano voice on the New York stage. Her film career, however, was in its infancy. She made her big screen debut in an uncredited role in Martin Scorsese's The King of Comedy (1982), but her true breakout came in Brian De Palma's controversial 1983 film, Scarface. In the film, she played the doomed Gina Montana, the younger sister of Al Pacino's Tony Montana. Her performance was widely praised for its raw emotional intensity and earned her critical attention.
By the time she was cast as Carmen in The Color of Money in 1986, she was a respected talent with a solid foundation in theater and a brief, but memorable, film career.
The role of Carmen, a grounded and strong-willed foil to Vincent's swagger, was perfectly suited to her disciplined and realistic acting style.
Between takes, the trio of Alex, Paul Newman, and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio were relaxing when Alex, leaning in, asked Mary curiously:
"So, what's it like working in theater?"
Mary took a sip of her coffee. "It's very different from movies," she explained. "It demands a discipline you can't get in film. There's no 'cut' and there are no second takes. You make a mistake, you just have to work through it."
Paul Newman, who had been listening quietly, looked over at Alex. "What's that, kid? You want to try your hand at the stage?"
Alex smiled sheepishly. "I've had the idea, yeah," he admitted. "Maybe someday. But for now, I've got a lot of commitments."
Newman's eyes moved from Alex's face to a magazine lying on the table beside them. On the glossy cover, Alex's portrait stared back at them, with the headline "Hollywood's Golden Boy."
Paul had already read the article; it was a familiar story about Alex's continuous box office success and his historic Oscar glory. Newman looked back at the young man, his thoughts drifting. He couldn't recall a week going by recently when Alex's face wasn't on the cover of at least one magazine.
He was the man of the moment in Hollywood.
Paul's mind drifted back to his own career. He was thirty-one years old when his first true success came with Somebody Up There Likes Me in 1956.
But the kid across from him was already an established star with a string of hits and two Oscars on his mantelpiece at just 23. He still couldn't quite fathom it.
In Hollywood, luck was the great equalizer. There were countless talented people, but true luck—the kind that aligned talent with timing—belonged only to a few. Alex's luck was his talent arriving at the exact moment a cultural fascination with teenage films exploded, making him the face of a generation and catapulting him to stardom so quickly.
"So, what's next for you?" Mary asked, looking at him with genuine curiosity.
Alex smiled faintly. "I have something going on," he said. "It's about American naval aviators."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that in the news," Mary said. "Aren't all the studios trying to get their hands on that project?"
"Yeah," Alex said, his smile fading slightly. "But there's a problem."
"What?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Paul, who had been listening from his chair, answered before Alex could. "Well, it's always about money."
Alex chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, it's about money."
"But aren't the papers saying that studios are willing to pay you ten million if you agree to star in it?" Mary pressed, puzzled.
"Yeah," Paul interjected again. "But I heard that our Alex here is okay with a smaller salary but wants a higher percentage of the box office."
"How much?" Mary asked, leaning forward.
"Five million upfront, and Eighteen percent of the total worldwide box office," Alex replied.
Mary's eyes widened. "Woah," she said in surprise.
"Don't be surprised," Paul said. "It's not that longshot. Alex's success should have made it an easy decision."
"Then what is the problem?" Mary asked, turning back to Alex.
Alex looked from Mary to Paul, a serious expression on his face. "Because I haven't proven myself yet as a mature movie star," he explained. "If it was a teen movie, they would have agreed immediately. But it is an action-drama, a genre I haven't done before."
Mary nodded slowly, a look of full understanding on her face. "So what happens next?" she asked.
Alex leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, my agency is working on the negotiations," he said. "The studios think it's risky, but they're still hopeful and greedy enough because of my past success."
And that was exactly what was happening in Los Angeles. Alex's agency, CAA, was in negotiations with several studios.