Cheesy Tomatoes: The Attack of the Psychic Killer Coreys, pt. 3

The next night came, and still no word from our fugitive friends; however, the show I anxiously awaited started: The Two Coreys. This reality show, now in its second season on the A&E network, stars Coreys Haim and Feldman, once the idols of millions of teens and pre-teens, and who together shared the silver screen in '80s movies The Lost Boys, License to Drive, and Dream a Little Dream; and separately starred in Silver Bullet, Lucas, Watchers (Haim); and The Goonies, Stand by Me, and The 'burbs (Feldman). The titular stars had a falling out at the end of the first season, when Corey called Corey's wife a very naughty name, and Corey thus grew miffed and told Corey not to come back till he, Corey, could be a bit more polite.



As the second season began, Corey's manager told Corey that he had to film some re-shoots for the upcoming, straight-to-DVD sequel of The Lost Boys, and that he had to film those re-shoots with Corey. Corey wasn't pleased. Corey never wanted to see Corey again; he had moved on with his life, and Corey would only cause further strife. Furthermore, Corey's manager wanted Corey to meet with Corey, so that they could straighten things out before they both arrived on the set together where tension might rise and cause undue harm to Corey's reputation. Corey agreed, and the manager then went to talk to Corey, and he agreed, too, and then...the two met as the show cut for commercial.

The commercial showcased A&E's new program, Psychic Kids. In the clips shown, these children not only saw dead people, but their visions seemed to so deeply disturb them that they were shaking, screaming, and crying. Cool, huh? I tell/read my son ghost stories from time to time,
we've visited haunted cites, we've gone ghost hunting (even spotting Bigfoot before, right in my brother's front yard), and a couple of times he's woken up from a nightmare, convinced something was out to get him. I cannot believe that I never thought to feed his fears, to perpetuate his panic, to enable his alarm and apprehension, to get out the video camera, run up to his room, get in his face, and ask him where he thought he heard the noise or saw the shadow, to film his fright instead of comforting him. Stoo-pid! Instead, I just tried to calm his nerves, convince him that the shadows were just that, that the figure was just a shirt on a bedpost. I never thought to make him go back up to his room the next night (and the next, and the next), with all the lights out, waiting for an apparition, waiting for him to scream. Doggone. If I would have thought of this years ago...well, years ago, when my son was much more likely to be scared of the Boogey Man than he is now, reality ghost programming didn't haunt the cable and satellite networks like they do now, so my son might not ever have been a star; instead, he would have just grown up insecure, paranoid, numerous neuroses prohibiting any sort of long-term productive lifestyle. Oh, well. At least I can watch Psychic Kids now and see what might have been. Sigh.

Speaking of what might have been and neurotic children, The Two Coreys returned from commercial break. Corey, wearing his sunglasses at night--along with a hoodie--walked into a diner and met Corey, who was sitting and waiting for him. After a quick buddy hug, the two almost immediately fell into destructive discourse as Corey accused Corey of being controlling, his autocratic nature hampering Corey's career; and Corey accused Corey of being irresonsible, selfish, and delusional. The two Coreys then proceeded to face off in an actor's duel, both taking turns improvising variations on Aaron Sorkin's dialogue from A Few Good Men, specifically Jack Nicholson's famous line, "You can't handle the truth." Corey went first, speaking in a low, gravelly voice, sotto voce, leaning forward across the table, but never exploding (like Jack did in the movie), never raising his volume. Corey, however, took a different approach, using several master thespian techniques: stuttering at key moments, twitching, affecting nervous tics, sliding back and forth in his seat, looking around the restaurant, raising and lowering his voice for effect.



After both had a go at it, the duel seemed destined to end in a draw, but Corey wasn't through, though, as he took the game to a higher dialectical level, questioning Corey's loyalty and honor over him, Corey, being molested as a child...accusing Corey of knowing but never intervening (This, friends, is serious business, and should not be discussed or dismissed lightly, as child molestation is not a subject that should be exploited, and that is why Corey first admitted this publicly not on just any reality show, but his reality show). Corey--obviously nonplussed, taken aback, vexed even--dropped character, and--therefore--lost the duel. Oh, he tried to return to the actor's duel by mentioning that he was molested, too, and he was molested first, and that Corey knew about it first, but by then, the game was over. Corey lost, and decided to leave, but Corey--Method Actor that he is--stayed in character, shouting at Corey, shaking, twitching. Ladies and gentlemen, I do not believe I've ever seen a more convincing performance of a delusional, paranoid, selfish, destructive, and neurotic individual than I did this night. Oh, the tragic, tragic humanity and truth on display. I think, though, I know what might have inspired Corey's improvisation, the research that must have been necessary for such a close replication of reality: Psychic Kids.

If Corey is not nominated--yea, does not win--an Emmy for his acting in this episode, then...well, I just don't know what I'll do. You really have to see it to believe it. You never would have thought Corey would have ended up acting just like what we thought the other Corey would have grown to be. It's almost easy to get them confused. I'm anxious for next week, and you should be too.