Bruno-Vision: Die Hard

Welcome back to Bruno-Vision! A deep dive into the career of Bruce Willis by yours truly, Robert Jordan Hunt. 

At the end of the last entry, I had summarized exactly where Ol’ Bruno’s career was at that point: He had one hit television dramedy, one moderately successful romantic comedy, and one certified box office disaster (with both films helmed by legendary comedic director Blake Edwards). Not a bad place to be honestly, especially at such an early point in his career. Bruce was quickly on his way to becoming Tinsletown’s Next Big Comedy Star. 

 Then Die Hard happened. 

It seems odd now that Die Hard was only Bruce’s third movie, and first as a leading action star. This dude just shows up on screen so confidently and easily as John McClane: Detective Badass that you just kind of immediately trick your brain into accepting that he’s always been around kicking ass and not afraid to cry about it either. 

But as we all know, that’s not true, and if you think about Be Dub’s career up to this point, it really doesn’t make sense that he landed this movie at all. So how the hell did it happen? Let’s dig in. 

The script had been adapted by Jeb Stuart and Steven E. de Souza from the novel Nothing Lasts Forever, written by former police officer Roderick Thorp. John McTiernan, fresh off the hit sci-fi flick Predator, had come on board to direct. 

When it came to finding the film’s leading man, I can assure you, Bruce was nowhere close to ever being considered. The studio, Twentieth Century Fox, really believed they had a hit on their hands with the right star, so they sent the script to all the top action stars of the era. Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Clint Eastwood, Harrison Ford, Burt Reynolds, and even Richard Gere (obviously Gere isn’t exactly an action star, but he was a definite movie star and box office draw at the time). Surprisingly, every single actor passed.  

It’s important to remember that prior to Die Hard’s release, 80s action movies were dominated with machismo and heroes seemingly cut from stone (think Commando and Rambo: First Blood Part II, or anything with Schwarzenegger or Stallone for that matter). These characters were seemingly invincible killing machines with the brawn to back it up. They rarely got hurt, never missed a shot and wouldn’t dare show any sign of vulnerability.  

So, basically, the exact opposite of John McClane. On paper, they thought he was a wimp! He constantly gets the shit beat out of him, he hides most of the movie, and then he’s crying about his wife by the end! “No thank you,” the major actors of Hollywood said collectively. 

The studio was in a tough spot. They had just been turned down by the biggest names in Hollywood and were desperate. At this point, any recognizable name would do. 

Enter- Bruce Willis. 

Fox took note that he had at least just had a small hit with Blind Date (Sunset had yet to come out) and the filmmakers couldn’t help but notice that his everyman sensibility (which he was displaying weekly on Moonlighting) was the perfect fit for the character. “Hooray!” said the studio, thinking that not only did they solve their leading man problem, but they were gonna save money doing it. 

Now here is where things get a little spicy. 

Willis’ agent, Arnold Rifkin, knowing the studio was desperate, was able to eventually leverage them into giving Willis a $5 million payday, a massive sum at the time that generally went to established stars like Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman. This news shook La La Land to the core, with tabloids and the general public balking at the sum for someone who was then mostly known as a TV Star. “Yuck”, said the world.  

Even with the backlash, the studio stood behind their decision to cast Willis, but decided to limit his presence in the trailers and posters and just let the action do most of the talking in order to get butts in seats. Did it work?

Well, kind of. The $28 million budgeted film opened at #3 in its first weekend in wide release with $7.1 million behind Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Coming to America in July of 1988. That’s honestly not too shabby for the time, especially considering Bruce’s limited appeal for the genre. 

But then a funny thing happened. Audiences and critics alike were blown away by the movie (duh), and in particular Ol’ Bruno’s performance. Never before had they seen an action hero be so vulnerable and relatable while also being so fun to watch. Bruce Willis, rising comedy star, had completely changed how an audience views the action hero in one fell swoop. 

 The movie eventually grossed $83 million domestically and $140 million world wide, spawned its own action sub genre (Die Hard on a bus, Die Hard on a plane, Die Hard on a ship), and propelled Willis to full blown superstardom seemingly overnight, with every studio throwing him every major action script in town (and Fox was ready to dump another truck load of money on his lawn to get Die Hard 2 going ASAP). 

So of course he chooses to play a Vietnam vet dealing with the shadow of war as his next gig.

 It’s decisions like this that fascinate me about Willis. The dude just had his career explode in a way that any actor would dream of, but instead of immediately cashing in, my man decides he’d rather act his ass off in the film In Country. What a badass.