"We're going for Oscar, baby," a Cinamour salesman told an undercover agent. "This is the first time I've ever seen an Oscar staring me in the face."
Hartford told Nickerson it would be a $15 million film. But as the fundraising totals increased, the budget decreased. First it was $10 million. Then $8 million.
PHOTO BY ANNE FISHBEIN
PHOTO BY ANNE FISHBEIN
Steve Austin, a movie producer turned undercover informant
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The fundraising numbers were a closely kept secret within the company. But Nickerson had a mole in the boiler room. Every two weeks, the mole would go behind Hartford's back and give Nickerson updates — until he was let go.
"Before he was fired, they were up to $13 million," Nickerson says.
Nickerson was stunned, then, when Hartford told him, three weeks before cameras were set to roll, that the final budget would be $3.5 million.
"I knew there was much, much more money," Nickerson says. "I knew something was wrong — really wrong."
It got worse when they started filming on location in San Antonio, in October 2006. There are conflicting allegations, but there is agreement that it was a disaster.
"Nickerson apparently went crazy and was stoned out of his mind on drugs," Hewitt says.
Nickerson denies that, saying it was Hartford and his co-producer, Daniel Toll, who lost control.
"It's like they were two little kids who'd never been anywhere before," Nickerson says. "It was a fiasco. They'd come out in the morning and have shades on, because they'd been up all night doing their thing. All of a sudden they were trying to make suggestions."
In one scene, Nickerson needed someone to buy a cheap rubber snake to use as a prop. Hartford suggested using a tree branch instead and fixing it with CGI.
"He really did want to be a filmmaker," Nickerson says, "but he didn't know how to do it."
The war between Nickerson and the two producers filtered down to the crew, damaging morale. Ultimately, it got out of hand. Nickerson says that one night, the producers tried to set him up for a drug arrest. The police visited his hotel room, but they didn't find anything.
By the time the film was finished, so was Nickerson's relationship with Hartford. He delivered his cut, and then Hartford hired a new editor and recut it.
Despite the difficulties, Hartford still believed the film would be a hit. In July 2007, he held a screening for investors.
"I sat next to Glen," recalls his cousin Adam Herts. When the credits rolled, "He made me stand up and applaud."
Some of the investors were less enthusiastic.
"The movie wasn't as thrilling as I thought it was going to be," Carl Bruno says. "It was terribly edited. On a scale of 1 to 10, I gave it a 5 or a 6."
Soon after he left the company, Jimmy Nickerson got on the phone to the District Attorney's Office and tried to interest its staff in investigating fraud at Cinamour.
At some point, Hartford's ambition became self-defeating. Throughout his career, he would turn down good opportunities in hopes of making an even bigger score. On From Mexico With Love, he turned down TV offers because he was certain it would be a theatrical success. But then nothing happened. With each delay, investors were getting more agitated, and more likely to complain to the authorities.
"It was like watching a guy burn his own house down," Hewitt says.
By the time Steve Austin worked his way into Cinamour in early 2009, the boiler room salesmen were raising money for the next film: Red Water: 2012.
But they were struggling. The recession was taking its toll, and the flow of easy money had dried up.
Austin, who was still trying to get Hartford on tape, offered up the name and number of an investor who might put in $250,000.
When Cinamour's salesmen contacted him, he said he was interested but wanted to talk to Hartford. For a while, Hartford resisted. But when it seemed like the deal would fall through, Hartford got on the phone, unaware that he was talking to an undercover agent.
He said that investors in Forbidden Warrior had gotten 60 percent of their money back. False. He said that all of Cinamour's films were profitable. False. He said Cinamour had $5 million in presales for Red Water. False. (The actual figure was $300,000.)
He had put his head in the noose.
The FBI raided Michael Sellers, the CIA agent–turned-producer, on the same day in May 2009 that they struck Hartford's company. One of Sellers' employees, Pamela Vlastas, had worked with Sellers for more than a decade, helping produce movies like Eye of the Dolphin. As far as she knew, everything was on the up-and-up.
Then the FBI showed up. "There were about 26 of them, and they were all really young and beautiful," Vlastas says. "They had us all go into the conference room, and got our IDs, and scanned our computers and took our notebooks. It was just a big mess."
At Cinamour's office in Encino, the employees were similarly caught off guard. They thought success was around the corner. They had secured a $5 million loan to pay the distribution costs for From Mexico With Love. It was due in theaters that fall. They had just returned from Cannes, where they were raising money for Red Water. Now they had FBI agents tromping through their offices.