Glen Hartford's Hollywood Dream and How It Came to Ruin

One of those other producers was Michael Sellers, a former CIA agent who was raising money for a series of films about dolphins. Through his contacts in the industry, Austin was introduced to Sellers in early 2009. He offered to help Sellers raise money.

Sellers had learned to be suspicious from his years of spying on the Soviets. And he was wary of dealing with Austin, because Austin had been convicted of fraud. Sellers suspected the government would be keeping an eye on Austin.

From Mexico With Love, Glen Hartford's final film

PHOTO BY ANNE FISHBEIN

Debbie Fontaine, fraud specialist with the National Telemarketing Victim Call Center, referred several victims to the FBI.

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More About

• Glen Hartford
• Steve Austin
• Mike Sellers
• Arts, Entertainment, and Media
• Telemarketing

Sellers said they would have to practice "expert tradecraft" to avoid surveillance. He told Austin to take canyon roads to make sure he wasn't being followed. He also gave Austin a prepaid cellphone and told him to call only on that.

Over several recorded conversations, Sellers admitted that investors in his new film, Way of the Dolphin, were being told that his earlier film, Eye of the Dolphin, had been profitable. It hadn't. Such lies, Sellers acknowledged to Austin, "downstream could be trouble."

That was a clear admission of fraud. From there, Austin went to work raising money for Cinamour. There, it was his job to get Glen Hartford on tape.

But Hartford was even more cautious than Sellers. He delegated fundraising to his boiler rooms. And he refused to talk to Austin — either in person or over the phone. He was the most paranoid producer in the industry.

It was clear that the salesmen were lying to investors. As one boiler room operator told Austin, they "lie their fuckin' ass off."

"That's what we pay them to do," he said, according to an FBI affidavit. "To give a good story."

To them, it wasn't really lying. It was just good storytelling. In one recording, a telemarketer said he had been trained on three bullet points for enticing investors: greed; enthusiasm; provide a story.

A good story is grounded in reality. It can't be too fantastic. A 300 percent return is too much. A 100 percent return is better. Where the story departs from reality, it has to remain internally consistent. And it has to engage with some deep feeling or emotion — hope, excitement, fear. In other words, it's not so different from a good screenplay.

The trick was to get the investor to see himself as the reluctant hero, destined for success if he could be smart enough to take the risk.

One of the best at it was Joe Roth (not to be confused with the former studio head and producer of films such as Alice in Wonderland). He was considered one of the industry's top closers. He was also, as Michael Sellers put it, a "psycho" — quick to anger if he felt he was being cheated.

Roth had done stunt work, attended acting school and doubled for Nicolas Cage. His stunt career was cut short when he was hit by a bus and dragged several blocks. He got into telemarketing because he was a good salesman, and it was a way to stay in the film industry — however tenuously.

He was so good on the phone that some of his victims still have fond feelings for him.

"We developed a relationship, and I trusted him," says John Orlando, a retired music teacher from a town near Santa Cruz; he lost $35,000 on Roth's movie investments. "He said basically you'll get your money back and then some."

Roth falsely claimed that one film, There for Hope, would feature Britney Spears and Nick Nolte. It was never made.

"There's people out there who want to think positively, and that makes them vulnerable," Orlando says. "I have to admit that I've been naive."

The pitch also worked on Carl Bruno, a phone company employee from Mt. Laurel, N.J., who was persuaded to invest $25,000 in From Mexico With Love.

"They dress it up really nice," Bruno says. "They were going to have a video game associated with it. They had beer distributors and all that in the background. ... All these things seemed very intriguing and entertaining, to say the least."

The pitch worked on Connie Hurd, of Salina, Kan. She got a call from Bart Slanaker, who convinced her to invest $5,000 in From Mexico With Love.

"Bart was one of these Danny DeVito–type guys — just take the world by the tail and take you for a ride along with him," she says. "You just kick yourself. You feel like you're being stupid."

So far, the only one of the above investors who has received any money back is Orlando. He got $216.

"This problem is widespread in L.A. for sure," says Debbie Fontaine, a National Telemarketing Victim Call Center fraud specialist, who referred several victims to the FBI. "We hear complaints about different film companies all the time. The problem is getting law enforcement to take action."

The failure of Forbidden Warrior had not discouraged Hartford. It only spurred him to go bigger with his second film.

From Mexico With Love tells the story of an underdog fighter who wins in the end. It was how Hartford saw himself. The odds were against him, but that would only make his triumph more heroic.