"What if" scenarios are always fun to contemplate, and few are as enticing as alternative movie castings. What would Raiders of the Lost Ark have looked like if Tom Selleck had played Indiana Jones? Would The Avengers have been the same if Edward Norton had kept on playing the Hulk? The mind reels at the possibilities presented by favorite movies starring very different actors. It’s even more fun to speculate when evidence exists indicating that the alternate casting was seriously considered. The reasons behind why these different casting choices didn’t go through vary, but one recurring issue emerges time and time again: Certain actors are just too darn expensive.
Sure, Hollywood might dole out millions of dollars to certain mega-stars who command gargantuan paychecks for a single film. But those kings and queens of the silver screen aren’t actually omnipotent — plenty of projects turn them away, rather than pay up. This problem even emerges with actors who’ve already played the role they’re set to return to. It’s pretty much a rule of Hollywood: Anyone can fall prey to paycheck quibbles. We’re here to explore this phenomenon with these high-rolling and highly controversial examples.
Harrison Ford in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
The visual effects in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, which allow live-action humans to seamlessly interact with hand-drawn cartoon characters, aren’t the only part of the production to receive major praise. Lead actor Bob Hoskins is widely beloved for his turn as bitter detective Eddie Valiant. "Hoskins and the other live actors have found the right note for their interaction with the Toons," Roger Ebert wrote in his review. "Instead of overreacting or playing up their emotions cartoon-style … They act as if they’ve been talking to animated rabbits for years."
Though it’s hard to imagine anyone else inhabiting the role of taciturn, tender-hearted Valiant, Hoskins was not actually the first pick for the part. In fact, the very first choice for Valiant was Harrison Ford. The actor was no stranger to visual effects extravaganzas after Star Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark, and might very well have made an excellent Valiant. But, of course, all that experience with big-budget blockbusters had made him very expensive. As Roger Rabbit was already an expensive production, Ford was a no-go. Other names including Eddie Murphy and Bill Murray were tossed around for the part, before Hoskins was chosen to portray the cantankerous detective.
Laurence Fishburne in Die Hard with a Vengeance
In the first two Die Hard movies, John McClane saves the day alone. But in Die Hard with a Vengeance, he gets some help in the form of Samuel L. Jackson’s Zeus Carver. According to Quentin Tarantino, however, Zeus was not originally supposed to be played by Jackson. In fact, the part was initially written for Laurence Fishburne. But just because the role was meant for Fishburne did not mean he was destined to inhabit it.
As Tarantino tells it, Fishburne knew the part was written for him, and that the filmmakers had few other options. So he asked for $1 million. As negotiations carried on, Andy Vajna, Die Hard’s producer, ended up seeing Pulp Fiction at the 1994 Cannes Film Festival. Jackson so impressed Vajna that Vajna returned from France having cast Jackson instead of Fishburne. The story doesn’t end there, though. Fishburne subsequently filed a lawsuit against Die Hard’s producers over casting someone else in the Zeus role. "Fishburne filed suit in Los Angeles against [Cinergi Productions] for breach of contract, but did not ‘seek damages for emotional distress’," UPI reported in April 1996. The lawsuit was eventually settled before it went to trial.
Robert Duvall in The Godfather: Part III
Over the course of the first two Godfather movies, Tom Hagen proves to be a crucial character. He is the person closest to the Corleones that isn’t also a blood relative of the family, and is an especially helpful lawyer and confidante to characters like Michael Corleone. It’s hard to imagine either of these films without Hagen, really. However, a salary dispute ensured this character’s absence from the final installment of the Godfather saga, The Godfather: Part III.
Robert Duvall, Hagen’s actor, has openly discussed how he refused to reprise the role of Hagen due to his salary coming up short against Pacino’s payday. "I said I would work easily if they paid Pacino twice what they paid me," Duvall told 60 Minutes. "That’s fine. But not three or four times, which is what they did." This development caused the screenplay for The Godfather: Part III to be rewritten to accommodate Duvall’s absence. In the theatrical cut of the film, Hagen passes away prior to the start of the story.
Years later, Duvall doesn’t appear to be haunted by passing on The Godfather: Part III. When asked by Reuters in 2010 if he regretted turning down the project, Duvall replied, "No, because it wasn’t as good as the other two." His sentiments echo the general reception of the film, which garnered noticeably weaker reviews than its predecessors.
Marcus Chong in The Matrix Reloaded/The Matrix Revolutions
Nearly everyone from the first Matrix movie returned for the sequels. Even Hugo Weaving’s Agent Smith, who is defeated at the end of the original Matrix, manages to return for both installments. However, Marcus Chong’s Tank, who is crucial in keeping the ship Nebuchadnezzar running, is absent. It’s common for franchises to lose side characters as they go on — however, it’s far less common for these developments to spawn lawsuits. That’s just what happened though, as Chong filed a lawsuit in May 2003 against Warner Bros and AOL Time Warner.
The lawsuit detailed that "Warner breached a 1998 verbal agreement, and a contract signed in 2000, to revive the character for the forthcoming Matrix Reloaded and third movie Matrix Revolutions", reported The Guardian. "Chong … also alleged in the suit that the film-makers defamed him by publishing false statements that he was a terrorist and claimed he was effectively blackballed in Hollywood."
Further details behind why Chong wasn’t brought back for the sequel emerged in a 2003 Entertainment Weekly piece. Salary demands had led to a breakdown in discussion, it was revealed, and Chong had allegedly made threatening phone calls. Salary disputes happen all the time in Hollywood, but rarely do they lead to as much drama as they did here.
Jack Nicholson as Hades
Robin Williams‘ spectacular performance as the Genie in Aladdin started a trend of celebrity casting in animated Disney movies. For the role of Hades in Hercules, Disney aimed to go big by casting legendary actor Jack Nicholson. This casting went far enough for Nicholson to be taken on a tour of the Disney lot. During this tour, Nicholson was shown some test animation for Hades, involving his lines from A Few Good Men. "We had a simmering Hades idly playing with a lick of flame as he said, ‘Take caution in your tone, commander. I’m a fair guy, but this f***in’ heat is driving me absolutely crazy,’" John Musker, Hercules’ co-director, recalled years later. Nicholson "loved it" and the tour ended happily for all.
Problems emerged when Nicholson revealed how much he wanted to be compensated for the role, however. As Musker revealed, "Jack couldn’t reach an agreenment with Disney to do the part. He had secured a lucrative deal from Warner a few years prior where they gave him participation in the merchandising, which had turned into a windfall. Jack insisted on a similar deal from Disney, which they were unwilling to do." After Nicholson passed on the part, Disney secured James Woods for the role of Hades, who was, luckily enough, "a delight to work and invent with."
Tom Cruise in Titanic
However, the actor’s salary ensured he would never be able to join a film that was already so expensive. Apparently, Cruise’s "asking price was never taken seriously." Besides, James Cameron had always had someone besides Cruise in mind for the role of Jack Dawson: Leonardo DiCaprio, who had made Romeo + Juliet into a hit. Cameron wanted to bring that sort of star power into the mix, and though DiCaprio had to be coaxed into taking the role, in the end, he joined the cast. The rest is history.
Even without Cruise, Titanic hit smooth sailing at the box office. To boot, it’s hard to imagine Cruise in Titanic spawning a phenomenon similar to the "Leo-Mania" DiCaprio inspired.
Terrence Howard in Iron Man 2
In the third act of Iron Man, a bit of foreshadowing plays out as James Rhodes spies a mechanical suit. After lingering on it for a moment, Rhodes leaves the room, muttering, "Next time, baby." This scene sets up Rhodes becoming War Machine, as fans now know. But Terrence Howard, who only ended up playing Rhodes in Iron Man, would not be around to see it.
In October 2008, it was announced that Marvel had opted to pursue a new actor for the role of Rhodes for Iron Man 2. "There was no explanation, apparently the contracts that we write and sign aren’t worth the paper that they’re printed on sometimes," Howard told National Public Radio that month. "Promises aren’t kept, and good faith negotiations aren’t always held up."
Five years later, though, Howard was willing to get more specific about what led to his departure from the franchise. "They came to me [for] the second and said, ‘We will pay you one-eighth of what we contractually had for you, because we think the second one will be successful with or without you,’" Howard recounted to The Hollywood Reporter in November 2013. This proved to be a loss for Howard, but a boon for Don Cheadle, who has gone on to play the role of James Rhodes far more than just "next time".
Bruce Willis in The Expendables 3
The Expendables movies are built on one idea: Getting as many action stars in a single place as possible. This means that it was inevitable that Bruce Willis would appear in the franchise. After a cameo in the first Expendables movie as the character Mr. Church, Willis got upgraded to a sizeable supporting role in The Expendables 2. After that film grossed $314 million worldwide, plans got underway for The Expendables 3, with Willis in tow to reprise his role as Church.
However, plans for Willis to return for Expendables 3 eventually fell through, as made evident by a tweet sent by Sylvester Stallone on August 6, 2013: "WILLIS OUT … HARRISON FORD IN !!!! GREAT NEWS !!!!! Been waiting years for this!!!!" Subsequent reports provided the monetary-based reasoning for why Willis had departed the franchise. "[Willis] said he’d drop out unless he got $4 million," a figure close to the Expendables franchise told The Hollywood Reporter. "A million dollars a day. Stallone and everybody else involved said no."
While Willis never managed to return to the Expendables franchise, he and Stallone did eventually mend fences. "Made up with BRUCE W," Stallone tweeted on November 18, 2014. "A stand up guy, my mistake …" Money demands may have disrupted Willis’ role in the Expendables films, but it wasn’t enough to blow up the friendship between these two action movie legends.
Crispin Glover in Back to the Future: Part II
As the characters of the Back to the Future movies have learned, meddling with the past can be hazardous. Even more dangerous, though, is getting actors to reprise roles without their permission. The latter scenario befell Crispin Glover, who played Marty McFly’s father George in the original Back to the Future. He was asked to return for the sequel, but disputes formed over his salary. "I wanted to be in the movie," Glover recalled in 2013, "but the offer was less than half of what Lea Thompson and Tom Wilson — who had similar sized roles — [received.] it just wasn’t fair."
However, just because Glover wouldn’t be around didn’t mean George McFly would vanish from the Back to the Future sequel. "The filmmakers … took a face mold of Glover that was created during the first film to help out the makeup artists," The Hollywood Reporter explained. "[They hired] a different actor, Jeffrey Weissman, and through the use of prosthetics, made it appear as though the same thespian was performing the part." In the wake of this maneuver, Glover filed a lawsuit against Universal for using his likeness without his permission.
The lawsuit was eventually settled out of court, but it has had a lasting effect on the film industry regardless.
Sean Connery in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service
The original James Bond actor, Sean Connery, left the franchise following You Only Live Twice. "The last straw was [Connery’s] salary of $750,000 with 25% of merchandise profits," wrote The Express. "Connery announced he would only return for a sixth film if he was paid $1 million and some of the film’s profits." He wasn’t, and thus he left.
In the wake of Connery departing the project, a new Bond was found in George Lazenby. He inhabited the role for a single feature, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. While the film has garnered praise from the likes of Christopher Nolan and Steven Soderbergh, Lazenby had a massively tough act to follow, and the film is not as beloved as others in the franchise.
In the wake of Lazenby dropping out of the franchise after Secret Service, Connery was enticed back into the role of James Bond for Diamonds Are Forever. "We can’t know for sure what convinced Connery to do Diamonds Are Forever," wrote Time in 2012, "but we can guess: Connery’s sweetheart deal included back-end percentages (12.5% of gross), a bonus if the shoot went longer than scheduled … and a salary so big it made the Guinness World Records." The salary issues that led to Connery’s exit from the 007 saga were clearly no longer a problem once Diamonds are Forever rolled around.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Die Hard is a perfect movie. Action movie, Christmas movie, semi-comedy movie, whatever you want to call it, it’s perfect. Though it opened to tepid response in 1988, time has cemented John McTiernan’s action film as a treasured American icon. It’s endlessly quotable and instantly recognizable when visually referenced. That’s the kind of immortality any filmmaker dreams to achieve.
Of course, that’s not to say that Die Hard is 100 percent flawless. But hey, the artistic effectiveness of a film can absolutely be measured by its capacity to hand-wave over real-life complications and outright hysterical probabilities that get in the way of fantasy. This is something at which Die Hard excels, and it’s worth digging into why we don’t care. We’re not here for just another silly nit-pick hunt for "plot holes." There are concepts in Die Hard that, when considered with a more rational mind not entertained by gratuitous explosions and bantery dialogue, actually are pretty dumb. However, despite the few mistakes, we can’t help but love the movie anyway.
The bonds plot is shaky at best
While Die Hard is a fantastic action movie, we’ve got to talk about those bearer bonds. See, negotiable bearer bonds, the MacGuffin at the heart of Hans Gruber’s robbery, were pretty much made legally obsolete in 1982, five years before we can reasonably assume Die Hard is supposed to take place (1987-1988). And then there’s the issue with their value. You can clearly see the character of Leo fan the bearer bonds once they enter the vault in the third act, revealing they’re initially valued at $100,000. However, Gruber refers to them earning "20 percent," and no US-issued government bearer bond was ever valued above $10,000, and the corporate bond interest rate in 1987-1988 was about nine percent. And sure, Nakatomi could conceivably hold some since the legislation had been passed in a relatively contemporary age, but they would be pointless for business transactions due to their reputation as being used for investment fraud.
On top of that, a negotiable bearer bond must be presented to a bank and in person to redeem the full valuation when the bond reaches maturity. Even the interest coupons that can be detached and cashed in require the same prerequisite because negotiable means "whoever is literally holding the bond in their hands at the time of redemption." Even if you succeed in your supposed fake-death plot, that’s gonna fall apart pretty quick when you show up at a bank — a heavily-monitored public place — with fat stacks of negotiable bearer bonds that recently were made functionally illegal precisely because they’re used for white collar crime.
However, we as an audience couldn’t care less, because most moviegoers don’t know anything about high finance. Plus, throwing the concept of a bond into the script rather than cash makes it sound white-collar and sexy, and it works.
Argyle’s entire existence is kind of dumb
The character of Argyle exists in Die Hard’s script for precisely two reasons. The first is getting John McClane to Nakatomi Plaza with some lovely establishing shots, and the second is knocking out Leo when he attempts to escape in at the end of the film. His entire bargain with John when he gets out of the limo (basically, "I’ll park and wait until you call me, and if your wife kicks you out, I’ll get you a hotel room") isn’t just unheard of for a limo driver, but it’s fundamentally impossible because it’s literally his first day on the job, and he’s working off the books, as he tells his girlfriend in the middle part of the film. ("My boss? He thinks I’m heading to Florida.")
Sure, it’s common for taxi drivers — which Argyle says was his last job — to work off the books, but that’s different from higher-end limo work. Why would his boss permit him to go on vacation immediately after getting hired? Zero percent of this makes any logical sense when thought through. However, Die Hard fans don’t really care because Argyle is fantastic. We love and cherish Argyle’s wit and levity cut periodically into the film so you won’t forget about his existence, even though his purpose, strictly speaking to the plot, is borderline pointless. Die Hard took what could’ve been a very short and easily forgotten bit of hand-wavey transposition of the protagonist and gave us a character almost as beloved and iconic as both McClane and Gruber.
We have little idea what Nakatomi actually does
Die Hard revolves around a massive business known as the Nakatomi Corporation, but what exactly goes on inside that massive skyscraper? The single clue we get as to Nakatomi’s incorporated purpose is when Hans Gruber lists off Joseph Takagi’s CV. He says that Takagi has worked for two separate divisions of Nakatomi — in trading sometime in the past and in investments, where he’s CEO now. Up in Takagi’s penthouse office, we see large models of build-outs for natural gas, crude oil, and the futuristic highway bridge "for Indonesia." These could indeed be projects in which they supply capital as an investment company, but Takagi treats them very personally, as if Nakatomi is doing all of this by itself.
Gruber goes on to say that the $640 million in bonds constitutes "ten days operating cost" for the company, which totals to roughly $12 billion — again, operating cost — a year. This is supposedly an American subsidiary of a Japanese company in 1987 dollars, so that would be roughly $27 billion today. For perspective, AIG, one of the nation’s largest fiduciary companies, reports $47 billion in total modern revenue. It’s all over the place. However, we as the audience don’t really care because those models look very cool and super business-y, big numbers sound very impressive off the cuff, and James Shigeta (Takagi) sells being a CEO like it’s breathing.
Why doesn’t Hans Gruber know what Takagi looks like?
When Hans Gruber and his gun-toting crew first show up, the German mastermind walks among the crowd of hostages for a solid minute and obviously passes right by Takagi, which is weird considering that just a few minutes later, Gruber lists off Takagi’s CV like he’s reading the Yellow Pages. The entire scene makes a big deal out of Gruber understanding Takagi’s entire professional existence back to, like, high school, but he can’t pick his mug out where it’s obviously sitting next to the fountain with maybe two dozen other people? (Holly Gennero’s hair alone is awfully large and noticeable right there next to Takagi, even for a film set in the ’80s.)
Plus, Gruber rattles off a list of terrorist sects that he’s read about in Time, and the guy watches CNN. He absolutely, positively, completely should know exactly what Takagi — a man who almost certainly qualifies as a Fortune 500 CEO and has profiles written about him in financial magazines — looks like and pick him out in such close quarters. However, we don’t really care all that much that Gruber can’t seem to ID his target. Why? Well, for one, that scene features an excellent series of cuts among the crowd to keep our eyes moving and focused on Gruber. And for another, just the simple drama of the moment entices us all, as it should.
Karl should be extremely dead
During the climax, John finally goes toe-to-toe with Karl, and their fight ends with him wrapping chain around Karl’s neck, then electric-sliding him down the stairwell ceiling and into the wall, leaving him to die. That really should be 100 percent it for our favorite murderer. On average, it takes about five minutes to die by this particularly grisly method, and one would lose consciousness due to oxygen deprivation in 30 or so seconds. The movie cuts back to him after what could reasonably be assumed to be five in-universe minutes, and he’s still there. That’s well past the point where he would’ve fallen unconscious, and on top of that, it would be nigh-impossible for him to free himself. Of course, at the end of the film, Karl returns in all his bad guy glory, evidently ready for round two with McClane.
However, we don’t care about this inconsistency because the entire movie makes the constant stylistic point that Karl is more of a force to be feared than a man. The dude is inevitable as Thanos. Bringing him back at the last second is the cherry on top of that statement, and of course, it pays out on Officer Powell overcoming his fear of pulling his gun in the line of duty.
Die Hard’s dumb table
We need to talk about the truly nonsensical table in Takagi’s office, the one that’s used as a centerpiece in two separate scenes. It shows up first during Takagi’s murder, and it comes back later when it’s shot up by the terrorist Marco while John wiggles around underneath it. (Also, the low-hanging, this-is-patently-stupid fruit in this scenario is that Marco absolutely should’ve killed John several times over with his machine gun, even for how poorly he was shooting down at the table with it.)
So what makes this table so dumb? Well, it has seven right angles on it. Sections of the table are raised over others. Only two people at a time could ever face each other, and trying to look over to the front of the table ten feet down would nearly require spinning one’s head atop their spine. No one would hold high-stakes, corporate business deals at a table resembling a Tetris piece.
So why don’t we care? Well, it’s all about style. After all, it’s something of a trope that rich people own nonsensical, highly-stylized versions of everyday items. The table’s ludicrous shape also helps drive up the drama when John is crawling under it trying to escape Marco.
Die Hard’s weird ending
The triumphal false ending of Die Hard has John and Holly carefully descend from a pile of rubble into the parking lot to the welcome of the LAPD and the press. Paper descends from the sky as pseudo-snowfall, and it’s wonderful. But the thing is, the paper … it’s all blank. Every single piece. And it’s extremely obvious.
On top of that, yeah, it’s an office building, but would there really be that much paper from one hole in the wall not caused by fire or an explosion? That’s a little silly. Furthermore, the papers are two colors, white and green. Are the pieces fluttering by supposed to be the Bonds, as some kind of artistic statement? Why not make it all white, if you’re going for snow, or all green, if you’re pretending they’re bonds, and you’re making a weird double-ended pun of it? Doing both is the silliest of all these silly options.
However, at the end of the day, audiences don’t really care because Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and all Christmas movies need a snow-backed happy ending. It’s a law, somewhere. Part of the Constitution.
Gruber’s terrorist chops are never clarified
In the book on which Die Hard is based, Nothing Lasts Forever, the terrorists are really terrorists. This was somewhat lampshaded in the film adaptation to keep it from getting too gritty and dark (like the book), but it also leaves a lot unresolved about Gruber. His one-liners about other terrorist sects are brilliant, but the addition of the news footage saying he was, at one point, an actual terrorist who was kicked out of the club raises a lot of odd questions.
So he was ejected from a terrorist cell … but why? Was he too sassy? Bored? Too many incisive insults using colorful metaphors directed at his revolutionary brothers and sisters? Seeing the way he treats his cronies, this is the most natural assumption that we’re led to believe, as opposed to him becoming too radical or violent. His tactical ability certainly belies a terrorist, but nothing in his personality does. His final scene literally reduces him to a thief and kidnapper, which on the scale of potential felonies and misdemeanors, ranks well below terroristic acts. Sticking to the fake terrorist bit might’ve been a more consistent choice. Maybe Hans was just bad at being a terrorist because he likes high London men’s fashion and money. Of course, this is Alan Rickman we’re talking about, and the man is so charming and so awesome that we’ll look over any plot hole as long he’s up on the screen.