What you need first here is perspective. Newman gets $4 million for a movie. Eddie Murphy gets $5 mill per. Hoffman and Beatty get $6 mill per plus a piece of the action. But Sly Stallone—he who makes the early Brando sound like Demosthenes, who usually lets his fists and a few grenades do the talking, whose filmic artistry critics place a notch above Pia Zadora’s—Sly Stallone gets $12 million per movie, plus a percentage of the profits. Wait, hold it! Here comes Run Run Shaw, the Hong Kong film mogul, and he’s panting to pay Stallone $20 million plus points to make Rambo III. Even if Sly doesn’t go for that, he still stands to make $25 million from two pics—Over the Top and Cobra—by the end of 1986. And you know what he does with a bunch of that stuff? He buys art. He buys wise, too. Sly’s private collection includes both Impressionist masters and a lot of paint pushers nobody ever heard of—yet. A relentless stalker through Manhattan’s art jungle, he is guided mainly by Barbara Guggenheim, a consultant who calls his taste brilliant. “He’s interested in many different areas,” Guggenheim says. “Young artists, neo-surrealists, late 19th-century bronzes.” He also collects Stallones: At his Malibu home, above, his own work hangs cheek by jowl with pieces by Claude Monet, Francis Bacon and Marc Chagall. With this guy’s record, don’t bet on whose work will be worth more in a few years either. Yo, Claude!