Coreyography by Corey Feldman

Author:Corey Feldman [Feldman, Corey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2013-10-29T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Not long ago I ran into Kiefer Sutherland at a restaurant in Los Angeles. I hadn’t seen him in ten, maybe twelve years.

Kiefer and I were never close, despite having worked on two films together, back-to-back. In fact, when I was filming the sequel to The Lost Boys with his younger half brother Angus, I remember thinking that I felt closer in a matter of weeks to Angus than I’d ever felt to Kiefer, despite having worked together for nearly six months. Kiefer is—or at least was—a pretty introverted guy. Still, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around in his seat at the bar.

“Corey! Wow, man, how are you?”

We exchanged pleasantries, gave each other a hug, until talk eventually turned to our work together on the set of The Lost Boys.

“You had it rough, man. You went through a lot. I don’t know if I ever told you this story, but I feel like I should…”

He proceeded to tell me about a night long ago, several weeks into filming in Santa Cruz. He had returned to the hotel from set, was sitting in his car in the parking lot polishing off a beer, when he saw me sitting on the exterior stairwell, my head in my hands, crying. He knew—he said—it must have something to do with my mother, who was once again acting as my on-set guardian. Everyone knew about the problems I was having with my mother.

Just a few days before the evening in question, I’d come back to the hotel to find she wasn’t in her room. Several members of the crew, however, warned me that she was in the hotel bar, that I might want to help her back upstairs. I reluctantly made my way to the bar and found her, draped all over some greasy-looking guy, cocaine caked around the inside of her nostrils. She could barely stand up; I was mortified. I spent many, many nights after that sitting outside on the stairs, too embarrassed even to look at her.

“We all knew what a mess she was,” Kiefer went on. “There were so many times I wanted to go down there, to shake some sense into her.” Instead, he spent the evening with Jason Patric and Dianne Wiest, sharing a bottle of wine and surfing channels on the television. But every half hour or so, he’d pull back the curtains and peer out the window, checking on me, checking to see if I was still there.

* * *

Mark Marshall, Steven Spielberg’s assistant and my chaperone on the Goonies trip to the Jacksons Victory Tour at Dodger Stadium, was just finishing up work on The Color Purple. He was driving from North Carolina, and he told me he’d be making a pit stop in Santa Cruz on his way back to L.A. We were only a few weeks into filming on The Lost Boys, but it was welcome news—Mark had always been a calming influence, especially in the early stages of my

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