Corey Feldman writes revealing 'Coreography'

Jocelyn McClurg | USA TODAY

Though known for his roles in popular '80s films including Stand by Me, The Goonies and License to Drive, Corey Feldman is just as famous for his connection to another on-screen Corey, Corey Haim.

Haim, who died in 2010, factors prominently in Feldman's new memoir, Coreyography. "I had no intention of making it a 'Two Coreys' story," he writes. "But in the wake of his death, I felt like I had to do the one thing he was never able to do."

Coreyography opens with the day Feldman learned his longtime friend and former co-star had died of pneumonia at age 38. He then flashes back to his own childhood, and shares a compelling, and often disturbing, tale of how he achieved national recognition in such a short span of time.

Despite cheerful recollections of A-list friendships, romances and on-set shenanigans, Coreyography is unflinchingly bleak. Within the first 10 pages, Feldman enforces his belief that "the No. 1 problem in Hollywood was, and is, and always will be pedophilia." He goes on to assert that Haim's battles with addiction stemmed from childhood sexual abuse, committed by powerful men in the film industry. Feldman, 42, also says he was molested as a teen.

As the son of abusive and neglectful parents, Feldman describes his acting roles as welcome escapes. On Goonies and Stand by Me, he was surrounded by other young talents and felt as if he belonged. Little by little, however, the darkness crept in, most often in the form of drugs.

Feldman shares how he first smoked marijuana with River Phoenix, yet another pal who died young. He later befriended comedian Sam Kinison, who indulged in all-night cocaine binges with the actor. Eventually, Feldman began snorting and injecting heroin, which led to three drug-related arrests and a rehab stint in the early '90s.

Coreyography also details Feldman's friendship with Michael Jackson, whom he met on the Goonies set. At the height of Jackson's fame in the mid-'80s, the pair communicated frequently. Feldman insists no abuse ever occurred, though he recalls a dramatic falling out in 2001 as the singer became paranoid Feldman would lie about the relationship or, ironically, write a memoir.

Perhaps almost as surprising as Coreyography's revealing content is Feldman's storytelling, which is refreshingly honest and clear. While the book ends on an positive note — the actor is now drug-free and a proud father — it's impossible to shake his memories of an exploitive, damaging side of Hollywood that repeatedly valued power over the innocence of youth.