Corey Haim, a teen heartthrob in the 1980s for his roles in films like The Lost Boys and License to Drive, died in Burbank Wednesday at the age of 38 from an apparent accidental overdose.
Haim was famously dubbed half of the "Two Coreys" alongside frequent co-star Corey Feldman. After falling from fame in the 1990s, Haim and Feldman appeared in the A&E reality series The Two Coreys from 2007 to 2008 but the show was cancelled due to Haim's drug addiction. During Haim's '80s heyday, he was regularly featured in all the teen magazines and became more known for his pinup status than his acting ability.
As Time's James Poniewozik sums up Haim's life and untimely death, "It would be nice to say that this was a surprising end for Haim ... But it would be honest to say that this is the oldest story in Hollywood. The sad truth is that he became equally famous in later years — in the tabloids and in reality TV — as an example of the all-too-familiar fame-to-addiction spiral."
Netflix has a new series on the tragedy that took place in Waco three decades ago: Called Waco: American Apocalypse, it's a three-part series documenting the standoff between cult leader David Koresh and the federal government that ended in a fiery inferno, televised live, with 76 people dead.
The series debuts on March 22, to coincide with the 30-year anniversary of the event which took place from February 28 to April 19, 1993.
It's an oft-told tale and not the only new release to try and exploit the 30-year anniversary: Jeff Guinn, former books editor at the Fort Worth Star Telegram, just came out with a book in January, also described as definitive, called Waco: David Koresh, the Branch Davidians, and a Legacy of Rage.
Waco: American Apocalypse is directed by another Texan: Dallas native Tiller Russell (Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer), who obtained never-before-seen videotapes of FBI negotiations, as well as raw news footage and interviews with insiders.
Those insiders include one of David Koresh’s spiritual wives; the last child released from the compound alive; a sniper from the FBI Hostage Rescue Team; the FBI Crisis Negotiation Unit Chief; journalists; and members of the ATF tactical team who watched colleagues die in the shootout against the heavily armed members of the religious sect.
The FBI videotaped inside the hostage negation room, thinking they'd be there maybe 24 hours, not 51 days.
"These are video cassettes that were sitting in somebody’s closet for 30 years, that show the mechanics of hostage negotiations in an intimate setting - not the hostage negotiation scenarios you see in films, but a team of people grinding, day in and day out, for 51 days," Russell says.
He also procured footage from Waco TV station KWTX, who had a reporter embedded in the initial gunfight.
While the standoff was broadcast live on TV at the time, much of it was out of camera range. The film uses 3D graphics to recreate the details of the compound.
Russell acknowledges that the tale of the cult leader who was also a pedophile, the debate over the right to bear arms, the constitutional limits of religious freedom, dredge up painful conversations that continue today.
"It cast a long shadow, pre-saging the Timothy McVeigh bombing in Oklahoma, the shooting at Colombine, and a growing distrust of government, but I think it's important to reckon with our past so we don't repeat mistakes," he says.
"So much of what’s roiling in culture today can be traced to Waco, a story about God and guns in America with all these children at the center whose lives were determined by the adults around them," he says. "There was no playbook for what happened, everyone was out on a limb, and people made mistakes. But almost everybody was trying to do their very best."
"I think this is a story that's often recalled in politicized terms, with finger-pointing on who screwed up and how did we get here, but there's a profound humanity to it all," he says.