Chuck Berry
Gold Member
For the uninitiated, Corey Haim was an 80's teen heartthrob who crashed and burned HARD. He was frequently seen in movies alongside his bro Corey Feldman like Lost Boys, Dream a Little Dream and License to Drive. After his first visit to rehab when he was 18, Haim decided to put together a video letting all of Hollywood know he was back, clean and ready for action.
What it actually turned out to be was a death knell and quite possibly the best worst "documentary" I've ever seen in my life. If you have around 40 minutes to kill and grew up in the 80s and 90s, check this out.
https://slate.com/culture/2014/01/c...-diary-me-myself-and-i-and-justin-bieber.html (I know Slate sucks dick, but this is a great article)
What it actually turned out to be was a death knell and quite possibly the best worst "documentary" I've ever seen in my life. If you have around 40 minutes to kill and grew up in the 80s and 90s, check this out.
Me, Myself, and I was a doomed attempt to replace an ugly truth—that Haim was, if anything, even more dependent on drugs, lonely, promiscuous, and self-destructive than people imagined, if Corey Feldman’s recent tell-all autobiography Coreyography is to believed—with the flimsy, transparent fiction that Haim had conquered his demons. The video represents, in many ways, a prehistoric form of social media. In its tragicomic, hilariously and grotesquely misguided way, the “video diary” was an attempt to bypass the gatekeepers of culture and the vultures in the tabloid press and deliver a celebrity’s message straight to his fans.
Haim’s folly was a viral video before the term was ever invented. As documented in the wonderful recent documentary Rewind This!, it was the kind of campy pop culture ephemera that was passed from one pop culture buff to another for the sake of mocking laughter and unintentional hilarity. The tape was designed not only to make teenyboppers swoon; it was a calculated announcement to the industry that Haim was rehabilitated and available for work. It does not seem entirely coincidental that with the exception of the following year’s Prayer of the Rollerboys, Haim would never have another lead in a widely released theatrical film. Me, Myself, and I was the worst possible calling card for Haim.
Rarely has a star appeared less clean and sober than Haim does in the video diary. His eyes often hidden behind shades, his body language jumpy and manic and overflowing with crazy energy, Haim talks a mile a minute, rattling off long, stream-of-consciousness rants that have, over time, made it into the annals of kitsch.
Sometimes, Haim’s statements have the mesmerizing banality and succinct simplicity of a transcendently stupid tweet. Me, Myself, and I is a firm believer in the now widely accepted notion that if a celebrity says something, it is inherently worthy of note, even if it’s something as poignantly mundane and dumb-ass simple as “Baseball—it’s all about hand-eye coordination,” “Driving is the thing in L.A.—you’ve gotta have a car,” or “You are what you wear—I wear something different every day.”
https://slate.com/culture/2014/01/c...-diary-me-myself-and-i-and-justin-bieber.html (I know Slate sucks dick, but this is a great article)
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