I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.
I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.
A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.
I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.
I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.
To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.
But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.
After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.
River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.
I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.
At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).
I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.
I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.
It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.
Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love.
But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.
Okay. Back to The Curse.
This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.
That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.
One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.
I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I—and my parents—was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.
No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, outthought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.
So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.
At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”
It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me—them, really—more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.
I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.
It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).
So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.
My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”
I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.
The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.
But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.
If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.
My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.
The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?
My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.
My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.
Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.
She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.
“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”
“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.
Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?
But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.
There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.
I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.
The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened—honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set—and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.
I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.
This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.
As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.
Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.
There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.
The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.
This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).
Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.
I am without words for what you and your sister went through….you kids shouldn’t have gone through this…
I’m so sorry to read about this. Thank you for sharing it.
It sounds like you’re on the journey to healing from it, and while I don’t know if that’s something that can ever be complete, I hope that it’s a speedy process.
I hope you never have to tell that story again. Love and hugs to that little boy and to that little girl.
I am so sorry you had to go through this, Wil. It once again takes the lid off the idea that Hollywood is all glitz and glamour!
This infuriates me! I cannot believe you endured this. Further, the comment about the parochial school teacher talking you out of Twilight Zone? That one hit hard for me, too – I feel you. Went to a fundamentalist school for 11 years of my life, so I relate to the ptsd.. and I also relate to going agnostic/atheist.
You’ve always seemed like a gentle, genuine soul to me, so it seems like you are the lotus flower – made you way up through the muck to shine with your own beauty.
Say hi to Marlowe for me. 🙂
This makes me feel physically ill. I am so incredibly sorry and am sending much love to the little boy that you were and the man that you are.
You didn’t deserve that. But you have and ARE continuing to rise up and fight for not only yourself, but those like yourself that weren’t b kept safe from nightmares like the one you survived.
I am so upset (as a human and mother) that your worthless POS parents let you and your sister endure this. My daughter suffers from severe anxiety. She is only 9 herself. I cannot imagine her going through what you guys did. This sickens me to my core. I am just so very sorry.
Also, I disagree that Stand By Me was it for you in film. I LOVED LOVED LOVED Toy Soldiers. I am curious as to your thoughts on it though. Did it bring up too many childhood memories that were traumatic because of the relationship your character had with his dad? I hope it was a better filming experience. I really love and respect both you and Sean Astin.
Never saw that movie and never will. I literally cried when I listened to this part of the audiobook. Heartbreaking.
Oh honey. I am deeply and profoundly sorry. Also my pstd nightmares (also from child abuse) are significantly helped by Prazosin. It’s a blood pressure medicine that blocks them, but I actually don’t know why. I take them every year when I start having traumaversary nightmares. I hope this helps someone. It it possible to mostly heal.
OH Wil. I am so, so very sorry. What happened to you and your sister should never have happened, and I wish we could go back in time.
I’m so sorry for what you and your sister went through. Wishing you peace and healing.
Jfc- Wil I’m so, so sorry
Oh my God. Wil, I’m at a loss for words here. This made me sick to my stomach and will stick with me for a very long time. I have never watched this movie and I never will. What POS those people (and your parents) were to you.
Maybe next time we are together, we can hash out some religious things. I’m deconstructing still. It’s a process. Actually, I’m considering a shadow event about deconstruction on the next JCC.
Anyway, I’m so sorry. You deserved better than this. You really did.
Reading this is making me feel all kinds of things. As a mother I wish I could travel back in time and scoop you both up and save you and hug you, cry with you (I am doing that last part regardless). I also want to rage at your parents for… literally ALL of the things! As a child advocate and former teacher I wish I could go back and use my mandated reporter status and get you the fuck away from those lunatic people. I am generally a non-confrontational person… until it comes to kids. I cannot fathom any parent being okay with this kind of treatment of their children… I think people who can are the same ones with the potential to be serial killers. I am so sorry you had to endure this and all their other shit. I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone to save you. Every child deserves that.
My heart breaks for those two young children – you and your sister should’ve been cherished, loved, supported, protected.
That was tough to read and that is terrible. Having worked a little on the independent side, I know some people think doing that kind of stuff is real filmmaking and they don’t care about anyone else. I’m sorry that happened to you and your sister. I don’t know what to think about Twilight Zone the Movie. I can’t watch it knowing what happened and the failures that happened there. I love the kid wishing people to the cornfield story though.
When I listened to this part in the audiobook. I took in every moment of pain as you justly screamed and cried into the microphone. I was walking and had to immediately sit down and weep. From the other side of the country I wanted more than anything to just sit and lend an ear/talk with you. That is the most awful thing to have happen.
I was at Steel City and you were so fucking cool to me (guy with the trophy), I drove with an ear to ear grin the whole way home to Indianapolis. So many times in the book you suggested that you doubted your talent, or maybe your impact, but as I stood in line to have my picture with you, I talked with people who were fans of your writing, fans of star trek, fans of big bang, fans of tabletop, fans of your blog. I took a moment to soak that in. Damn this is one talented dude. He has impacted thousands and thousands of people, myself included. I hope you never doubt yourself again, but I also know that sometimes its not you but the ugly depression monster that can convince us otherwise. You sharing a truly horrific moment will help others come to terms with trauma in their life and hopefully seek help. Your pain, so unfairly earned, will help others. Virtual hugs my dude.
I would love to be able to chew on your mother’s and father’s asses for about an hour each, and just call them out for the worthless and horrid pieces of absolute shit they are. I’m so so sorry for you and your sister, and I hope you will be granted peace and comfort for all you’ve suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to be protecting you. Who were supposed to have YOUR best interests at heart. God this makes me so angry, and just sick in the pit of my stomach. Bless you, Wil, and your sister.
They aren’t worth it. If they refused to listen to their son for 46 years, they aren’t ever going to listen to anyone. They got their money and their free trip to Italy, and that’s all they ever cared about.
I’m so, so, sorry that this weekend brought this back for you. I’m glad that you are addressing it. That was the most horrible thing that I have ever read and there were so many red flags in that conference room and you were right, but the adults in your life were criminally negligent. I’m so angry for you and your sister. I have a 37 year old daughter. I can’t imagine doing that to her for money–no amount of money is worth that. What garbage your parents are/were!
I saw you on Sunday, we talked briefly. I found you to be just a kind, gentle and warm person I want you to know that I treasure our interaction. You may never remember it but you were kind to me and that meant alot. You did some good in this world and I am sure that it will not make up for this but I hope it comforts you some.
Heidi
Here’s something fucking crazy ironic I just read (after reading Wil’s essay here): I looked up the director of this film, and he was the spokesperson for “PROTECT: The National Association to Protect Children” (from abuse, exploitation, and neglect).
Oh man dude. I’ve got your book along with the newer annotated version and reading any of the trauma stories makes me feel ill. So sorry that bad and hurtful memories came back to you after a con visit with fans. Glad they meant no harm and that you were so kind to them.
There is no amount of money that would entice me to put my son (who is 13, BTW) through any part of what you experienced. I am in awe of the man you have become, all the more so because of what you have had to overcome to get here.
I don’t know if you’re a hugger, but if we’re ever in the same place I’ve got one for you. Meanwhile, hug those kids of yours. In my experience a hug from your kid can really help to squeeze those broken pieces back into place.
“Wil Wheaton as Charlie Fox.”
“Wil Wheaton as Charlie Fox.”
“Wil Wheaton as Charlie Fox.”
Yeah. I think I could go with that. I think you could have brought more nuance to the role. Maybe a bit more of the adolescent wide-eyed, singular idolization true to Justin Theroux’s original vision. Would you have committed to such an intense location shoot?
My problem with Weir’s film is mostly due to its casting. Harrison Ford was miscast and lacked the complex subtlety of the character of Allie Fox, instead coming off like a rampaging train coming down the tracks. The character needed someone a little less fevered and perhaps more internally self-tormented. Jeff Bridges, maybe? William Hurt? I’m a huge fan of River (R.I.P.) as an actor, but only in a few select films. MOPI is an acting class onto itself. Still, his indicating in some films drives me out of my tree (e.g., “Sneakers”, which is a great, great, great, great film).
Anyways. The audition process must have been pretty interesting.
Im sorry at the con i felt as if i was being disingenuous when i was talking about my mother. Ive been programmed that she can hear anything or has spies everywhere even 2 states away. But growing up i always heard you dont remember correctly, your mind is warped, why are you always so negative? I was also told to not tell anyone about the welts, or runaway cause if i did the cops would take away my dog. I wanted to say thank you again i was gonna send you a message on instagram but i fear they would see it. It wasnt until i saw your book and interviews and your instagram about gaslighting that i even knew what it was. So from the bottom of my heart thank you so much for being an advocate for this and also not just teaching me things but also making me feel not so alone in this world.
I hear you. I believe you. I am sorry this happened to you.
Geez Wil! Reading this made me nauseous. How could anyone, ESPECIALLY PARENTS, allow children to be subjected to that treatment!!!! Why didn’t anyone come forward and object?? No wonder you were traumatized!!! I’ve commented before about your parents and the way they robbed you of a nurturing environment. Somehow I believe they will answer for their treatment of you. It may be in a way in which you fail to witness it, but they won’t escape. The laws of the universe deliver back to us everything we’ve dished out. I’m sorry you were reminded of that horrible experience at an otherwise enjoyable event. But I’m so glad the fans were understanding. You see? Nature does reply. You are kind and considerate to so many strangers, it comes back to you. I wish I could hug you. Hugs are so healing and produce such great hormones into your system. And you deserve some long and overdue comforting hugs.
I haven’t gotten to that point in the book yet (haven’t gotten much reading in this summer). I can see why the posters would be triggering for you, and I’m glad your fans understood. I’m also very thankful for EMDR, myself, and thankful to hear you have that scheduled. I hope it helps to re-center you this week. 💙💙
I have a sweet little boy who is a born entertainer. The thought of parents shoving their kids into a production like this makes me vibrate with rage. Love to you and your sister. And you would’ve kicked ass in Twilight Zone.
Holy crap! That was horrific! I’m so sorry.
Fuck, fuck, fuck everything about this. As a mother, the very idea that anyone would let these things happen to their children is enraging. I am so sorry this happened to you. No one deserves this.
It’s hard to believe how much some people suck. And then the next moment, it isn’t hard at all. At the risk of isolating one incident from the entire shit salad, if someone deliberately cut my 9 year old daughter, that would have been the least of the injuries experienced on set that day, and the last time any of them had access to my kids, and the end of their production, and the beginning of some real criminal and civil troubles.
Sorry your folks weren’t the protectors you needed.
It’s hard to believe how much some people suck. And then the next moment, it isn’t hard at all. At the risk of isolating one incident from the entire shit salad, if someone deliberately cut my 9 year old daughter, that would have been the least of the injuries experienced on set that day, and the last time any of them had access to my kids, and the end of their production, and the beginning of some real criminal and civil troubles.
Sorry your folks weren’t the protectors you needed.
Jesus, Wil… I’ve never heard of this film, and after reading all that, I’m glad I missed it. And also so very sorry you and your sister endured it. God, how awful. The bit about missing out on The Twilight Zone is infuriating, too. For what it’s worth, you would’ve rocked at wishing people into the cornfield.
Dang, Wil, this is disturbing stuff. I’m truly sorry you and your sister went through this. As an admirer, I have to say the most upsetting thing I read here is that you allowed some religious nut job drive you to convert to atheism when you were young. I truly hope that some day you will re-examine this stance. There’s a lot of good in this world, and it doesn’t just ‘just happen’. I hope you can someday look beyond this experience and allow the positive things that have happened in your life, since then, offer you some balance. Best wishes for you, sir.
If the most disturbing thing you read here was a comment on atheism, YOU ARE the religious nut job. Do you have any clue how inappropriate and blind your comment is? You’ve just demonstrated yourself to be as blind to the abuse of children as his parents were/are. Shame on you.
Will, I don’t know if you would find this useful, but I have a lot of trauma and something that helped: I had a neuropsychological exam where they give you these various tests (none of them felt particularly traumatic, although one had me in a bad mood for a few days) and it basically helps therapists map out a lot of inner structures and mechanisms you have set up. I am only two or so years younger than you so age doesn’t make a difference in the usefulness of the tests. I found that it was really useful to me because it explained some things I didn’t know about myself and how I cope/think. This was straight science you could go to any professional for, I’m not talking about something like Scientology “tests”, and therapists sometimes find it of use for improving treatment. Just something that you could check into on your own and decide whether it fits for you. In any case I am so sorry you had to deal with what you dealt with and I hope like all trauma victims that you continue to move upward on healing from what was done to you.
I am so sorry this happened to you. While not an actor, I know what it’s like to be ignored when you are being abused and then gaslit into believing things were fine and you were just exaggerating/wrong or lying.
I have some similar issues with siblings in that many of them just don’t remember how bad it was, or their cognitive dissonance overwrote enough of it. I was the oldest too, and I’m sure that had a lot to do with it. I’m sorry you had to write this in order to not be re-traumatized. That’s one area I don’t know that I’d be able to handle with grace in public, and I’m sorry you had it brought up multiple times.
I’m glad you had a good time otherwise. I hear the horror cons are really fun.
I’m very sorry you went through this.
EMDR saved my life dealing with PTSD. I hope it is as helpful to you.
You published this the exact day I watched “Stand By Me” with my 11 y.o. daughter. After watching it I was asking myself what you had been up to after it, since I didn’t remember seeing you in anything else, despite your obvious talent. Now I understand. I’m so sorry this happened to you, and that you were not protected and cared for by the people supposed to love you the most. It’s appalling to see the number of children abused in the Hollywood system, and the guilty indifference that surrounds this. I hope you’ve now found some peace and happiness, and I wish you the best in your personal and professional life. We have still so much work to do to protect children from exploitation and abuse, sadly often by the hand of their own family. As a parent, I do everything in my power so my daughter doesn’t have to go through what I did, but I find it infuriating how kids are still not protected enough. Much love to all my fellow survivors.
So sorry both of you had to go through this. Your parents failed at their number one job, but despite them, you’ve become an empathising and inspiring wonderful human being.
I just sat here for ten minutes trying to come up with words to describe the anger that welled up inside me as I read this, but I have none. After many years of getting over the similar things my parents did to me, I feel it all coming back up. Thankfully I finally found a therapist, one that specializes in dealing with trauma survivors.
No-one should ever have to deal with what you and your sister went through. Every copy of that movie, every poster, every shred of it’s existence should be wiped from the face of the Earth.
After reading this, I really wish I could give you a hug. Thank you for sharing this painful story with us.
As a parent I very literally cannot understand how your mother stood by as that was happening to you and your sister. It makes me see red to imagine that happening to my kids. Or to any kids. Just, what the actual fuck.
We met at Steel City Con on Sunday. We ended up talking about what a cool dude 😎 Ethan Peck is most of the time, and I said that I liked your Fetterman shirt.
Anyway, I wanted to mention that I started reading your book, and it is unbelievable so far. I have not reached this part of it yet, but I am really sorry that you experienced this. I am also sorry that this might have marred your experience at the con. You brought a lot of joy to us in Pittsburgh this weekend, and I hope that we were able to do that for you too (on the whole, exceptions excluded).
I guess I just wanted to let you know that I enjoyed meeting you (both briefly for real, and for more hours now in a more parasocial sense in the book). You are a good guy. I can tell! I teach public high school, so character is something that I spend a lot of time trying to help my students develop. You were a great listener, very welcoming, and extremely gracious.
Thanks again for making the trip, returning to the convention scene, and putting yourself out there to met us.
Jesus christ – that is insane – I am pretty much the same age as you and I remember wondering what had happened to you after seeing stand by me in theaters – Until you were in star trek – and I am one of the clueless idiots not knowing anything that was down on your character there – but after that I have loved all of your roles – from the villain in the The Guild to the cameo in Picard – even your stint in Powers – I am a scifi Geek who consumes every show I can get my hands on good or bad…
You have inspired me to stop drinking and try to get a hold of my life – and for that I will always look up to you – even though I have no way to understand your pain and trauma.
It would be awesome to see you at Halcon 2022 (along with John Scalzi) – I would buy you a beer but no – maybe a non-alcoholic drink of your choice (the offer here is to buy the drink not asking you to spend any time with me) – Halifax is a great city that can offer a peaceful maritime getaway – Life here is good for the soul
https://www.cbc.ca/news/entertainment/jennette-mccurdy-memoir-1.6551754
Wil, The Twilight Zone movie was a good enough movie, though not anywhere close to Stand By Me (or even Toy Soldiers in some respects). If you had accepted the role you were offered, viewers would inevitably have compared your work to Bill Mumy’s classic 1961 performance, which might well have narrowed your career in ways you wouldn’t have liked — as there’s every likelihood you wouldn’t have been offered Stand By Me, because producers wouldn’t have wanted viewers to picture Gordie wishing someone into some cornfield (or television). Instead of being seen as Mumy’s copycat/shadow, the two of you got to be peers as annoying precocious genius space kids — surely a happier outcome for you both. It may have been ignorant fanatic religious bullshittery that scared you away from the Twilight Zone role, but I’d argue that your career was ultimately better off because of your choice, even if at that time you made the right choice for all the wrong reasons.
Wil Wheaton, I am so incredibly sorry you had to endure that horrific abuse as a child. No one deserves that kind of treatment. When you do conventions in the future, you can have your agent put in your ad that you will not be signing any items from that movie. I am glad you’re doing better now, but I know it will always stay with you some. The thing is, now you have the power to control it. Xx
As someone who also suffers from diagnosed PTSD from childhood abuse and trauma, my heart truly feels for you. I never knew about any of this and it’s truly sickening that someone like you had to deal with it. I grew up with an overly abusive and overly religious father and a narcissistic, abusive drunk mother. I too do not follow religion and follow atheism as it’s hard to believe anything these hippocrates say and do because they truly contradict themselves, especially my father who would preach the gospel and then frequently picked up hookers within the same week. Reading your story brought back alot of shitty memories that were similar to mine, minus the whole acting thing. Lol. I’m glad you were strong enough to continue on and take charge of your life and career. For what it’s worth, you’re an amazing actor. I enjoy everything I’ve seen you in and I will never watch Curse. And I am a horror fan ❤ much love Wil
I hope for the rest of your lifetimes you never have to retell this horrendous account again.
My heart goes out to you and your sister. Both of you deserved to never have gone through what you did.
Thank you for your courage to put this out there like you do. ❤️
Wil, after reading your story I looked-up the movie, then the director. Under trivia about the director I read this: “He is on the national advisory board for the National Association to Protect Children (http://www.protect.org) and lobbies on behalf of stronger penalties for crimes against children.” Oh really? I can’t help but wonder if you were aware of this.
Yeah, that’s been pointed out to me. All I know is that he didn’t protect us, and maybe if he cared he could have reached out at literally any time in the last 37 years.
Thanks for the feedback… and for sharing this story. It must have taken a great deal of courage to revisit those memories and my respect for you, already quite high, just went up another notch.
Mr. Wheaton,
I’ve read (well, listened to) your book, so I hope that you will forgive me not reading the write-up you’ve put here. I got just a bit in and it looked like a direct transcription or close enough. When I was in my car listening to the audiobook, I had to literally pull the car off the road and sit for a few minutes for the safety of myself and others. I have no desire to read that again, so I can’t imagine how bad it must be to have to deal with it when it happened to you. You have my deepest sympathies for having gone through all that. I wish that I could write the perfect thing that would take some portion of that pain away. Alas, I am not the person who can craft those words, so I will just say that you are correct that those things should never have happened to you and your sister. They should never happen to anyone. And you should have had responsible adults that could and would help you. Beyond that, if there’s some other specific statement that you wish someone had written in these comment, please imagine that I or someone else had written them.
Best wishes.