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It sounded like the chance of a lifetime. "160 people needed:
Ages 18-60. Actors, actresses, and Stunt people. Move to Bahamas November
1st. Stunt/scuba training provided.... Studio pays airfare, cabana lodging.
Meals provided," read the employment ad, which appeared in the June 20 Willamette
Week and the June 21 Mercury. But barely a week after scores of aspiring performers thought they'd
clinched the role of their dreams, their sun-dappled Caribbean fantasy is
dissolving in the face of an ugly dispute. As the production company,
Blackhorse Productions, and the talent agency, Face Value, trade accusations,
the Oregon attorney general is now investigating whether the Bahamas
production was ever anything more than an artful illusion. "It's a big scam," says Vince Arthur, a customer-service
specialist for the Oregon Worker's Compensation Division who is convinced he
was taken for a ride. On Saturday, June 23, Arthur and hundreds of other would-be Charles
Bronsons drove out to "Lot 3," a remote Aloha farmhouse, for an
audition. Standing on the set of a Wild West town, complete with teepee and
water tower, Blackhorse Productions maestro Nigel "Rio" Sanders--a
veteran stuntman--painted an incredible scenario. According to Arthur and other witnesses, Sanders explained that a
casino on Paradise Island in the Bahamas needed stunt performers for three
different live-action shows--a Wild West show, a pirate extravaganza and an
underwater drama involving the lost continent of Atlantis. Performers would earn a minimum of $2,500 a week, Sanders said.
Benefits included accommodation, airfare, meals and health insurance.
Performers could bring family members along--child care and school tuition
would also be provided. The job would last as long as three years. "I
have to admit, I thought it was really happening," Arthur says. He
wasn't alone. "I really wanted to believe it," says model Barb Peters, who
held a garage sale in anticipation of moving to the Bahamas with her
5-year-old daughter. The performers would have to make sacrifices, of course: They would
have to undergo four months of rigorous training and post a security bond of
$124. They would also agree to take part--for free--in two local charity
shows Blackhorse would put on in the fall: a Wild West shootout and a Haunted
Hollywood gig. At the end of the audition, Sanders told the hopeful performers they
were all going to the Bahamas. "People were jumping up and
down," says Peters. "They were just ecstatic. They couldn't believe
it." Meanwhile, on the fourth floor of the Greek Cusina building in
downtown Portland, David Bentley and Ronnie Mascarena were getting cold feet.
Mascarena and Bentley (who is also known as David Small) run a fledgling
talent agency named Face Value, which placed the ads on behalf of Blackhorse
Productions and had a verbal agreement to supply the talent. The Blackhorse deal was easily the largest in Face Value's short
history. In salaries alone, the project would cost more than $20 million a
year, from which Face Value could charge a 20 percent commission. But Sanders seemed vague on key details, Bentley recalls--he didn't
appear to know whether the Bahamas were a foreign nation, for example--and
the talent agency wondered if he really had a contract for his show. "I
didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure this was thin," Bentley
says. As questions piled up, Face Value was already profiting from the deal.
Lured by the Bahamas ad, roughly 60 people signed up to join Face Value's
talent pool, each paying a $75 registration plus a "head shot" fee
of $75 to $200. Altogether, Face Value pocketed roughly $5,000. (The rest of
Blackhorse's cast was drawn from Face Value's existing talent pool, and from
friends and family members who simply showed up at Lot 3). Meanwhile, officials from the Atlantis casino--the only resort on
Paradise Island--told Face Value they had never heard of Blackhorse. In addition, Face Value was alarmed by reports from several female
performers that Sanders had conducted private "measuring sessions"
with them in the farmhouse adjoining Lot 3. College student and nanny Regan Grube told WW that Sanders took
her into the bathroom, locked the door and asked her to remove her shirt and
bra so that he could take measurements for a mermaid costume. She says he
also touched her breasts. During the next day's rehearsal, she says, he took
her into the bathroom a second time and told her to pull down her pants and
panties so he could take additional measurements. She complied on both occasions because she wanted to be cast as a
mermaid and go to the Bahamas. "I got tricked into it," Grube says.
"It's absolutely unreal." Peters told WW she observed Sanders taking between five and 10
female performers into the bathroom, one at a time. Contacted by WW, Sanders admitted he had measured female
performers for mermaid suits but denied locking the door. Then he hung up the
phone. The Face Value honchos decided it was time to get something in
writing. On Tuesday, June 26, Bentley and Mascarena drove out to Lot 3 and
delivered a letter of intent, stating Blackhorse's promises so far. Sanders said he'd run the letter past his lawyer. But as soon as
Bentley and Mascarena left the scene, Sanders told the performers they had
been scammed by Face Value--he had never signed a contract with the agency,
he said, and he objected to their charging fees for the casting call. The next day, June 27, Face Value held an emergency meeting for its
talent pool, which WW attended. "We don't want any part of this
deal," Bentley told an anxious group of roughly 25 performers. Bentley
shared his doubts about the project and announced that Face Value was
henceforth releasing its talent and forgoing its 20 percent commission. (As WW
went to press, Face Value said it would not refund its fees to disgruntled
talent. It will, however, offer free photo shoots.) Despite the uncertainties, roughly 100 people showed up the next day,
June 28, for a rehearsal at Lot 3, which WW also infiltrated.
"Don't give him any money," shouted one performer, who was quickly
ordered off the compound. Then Sanders took the stage. Tanned and blue-eyed, with an actor's looks and a showman's poise,
Sanders gave a masterful performance. Face Value was mistaken, he said--the
show was not going to be performed at the Atlantis casino, but at another
resort in the Bahamas, which he did not specify. Meanwhile, he warned his
performers that continued challenges would spell curtains for their future
with Blackhorse. "Attitude is everything with me," he said.
"If you question this after today, you're out of here." A few moments later, he warned the performers not to cross him.
"You stab me in the back, I will make sure you never get an acting job
in this town again," he said. Referring to the "gag order" in their contracts, Sanders
warned his troupe not to disclose anything about the show--even its
existence. "I will prosecute to the full extent of the law," he
intoned. In response to continued questions, however, Sanders reiterated the
terms of the deal: Cast members would earn $2,500 a week, receive six
round-trip tickets, accommodation for themselves and their
families--arrangements would even be made for their pets. In a June 29 telephone interview, Sanders, who didn't know WW
had snuck into the previous day's rehearsal, denied mounting a production in
the Bahamas. "I don't have a Bahamas connection," he said. "I
have not promised people to go to the Bahamas." He had no contract,
although he was seeking contracts in the Bahamas and elsewhere. As for
the details he had mentioned to his cast--the $2,500 a week, the free
accommodations, the round-trip tickets--those were simply items he intended
to include in any contract he eventually signed. He also said he had dropped
the $124 bond requirement. Sanders proceeded to elaborate a "solid track record" of
local charity shows and concluded the telephone conversation by asking a WW
reporter to meet him face to face the following day. "I've got nothing
to hide," he said. The next day, Sanders' attitude was rather different. "I am who I
say I am, and I have no comment," he said during a brief encounter at
Lot 3, surrounded by 50 performers with the gleam of azure water in their
eyes. According to public records and former associates, however, Nigel
Sanders is actually Roger James Sanders, who has twice filed bankruptcy
papers, and who has a history of gulling performers into joining his
charity-show casts--for free--with the promise of lucrative gigs, which never
materialize. "He's just a bad apple," says stuntman Scott Hill, who
trained with Sanders for several months last year in the hope of performing
in a Las Vegas spectacular that never took place. Although Sanders' motivation remains unclear, several former
associates said the extravagant promises were simply a hook to get free
talent. Blackhorse Productions has put on charity shows, including "A
Day in the Wild West" and "Haunted Hollywood," a live-action drama
that ran for three weeks last October in the parking lot of the Beaverton
Mall. One former associate says that Haunted Hollywood, promoted as a
fundraiser for the Beaverton Police Activities League, Shenandoah 4-H Riders
Club and Loaves & Fishes, drew hundreds of people a day at $5 a ticket,
generating thousands of dollars in revenues. "He raked in the
money," the source says. Where did the money go? Rocky Smith of the Shenandoah 4-H Riders Club
says that Blackhorse contributed two tons of feed--worth about $700. Moira
Green of Loaves & Fishes says the organization received some cans of
food. But Jill Showalter, the executive director of Beaverton PAL, says her
organization received no money from Blackhorse. "I was greatly
disappointed," Showalter said, in part because police officers had
promoted the show in school appearances. Local casting agent Danny Stoltz says the entertainment industry
simply does not hire hundreds of amateur stunt performers at $500 a day for
three years at a stretch. "Get real," he says. "That is
ridiculous. That is absurd. No. I've never heard of a deal like
that--ever." Despite his opinion, however, it seems clear that several dozen cast
members still have faith that Sanders can pull off the biggest stunt of his
career--and that they will soon be flying to the Bahamas on the adventure of
a lifetime, all expenses paid. --WW interns Trisha Miller and Kirsten Flagg contributed to this report. Originally published 7/4/2001 Find this story at www.wweek.com/story.php?story=1803 |
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