McMillion$ uncovers the bizarre truth behind the $35 million McDonald's Monopoly scam

Fraudster Michael Hoover in a Scene from the HBO documentary McMillions. Photo / Supplied

When filmmakers James Lee Hernandez and Brian Lazarte set out to make a documentary about the "biggest fraud you never heard of" in which the famous McDonald's Monopoly game was rorted to the tune of $35 million, they knew they had to get two key parties on board – the FBI and the fast-food giant itself.

The sometimes secretive Federal Bureau of Investigations proved to be the easy part. Hernandez's interest had been piqued by something he read on Reddit in 2012, which told him than nobody really won the McDonald's Monopoly Game, a hugely popular promotion begun in 1987 in which customers earned properties from the beloved board game which gave them a shot at winning prizes from cars to homes to the grand prize of $US1 million.

Having fond memories of the game himself – his first job as a 16-year-old was at the Golden Arches – Hernandez did a little digging around, but beyond the fact that the scam had happened and some people were arrested, came up largely empty-handed. He put in a Freedom of Information request with the FBI for more details, which took more than three years to be processed, but once it was approved, the intelligence agency couldn't have been more helpful. It was almost like they were waiting to be asked.

Rookie FBI agent Doug Graham in a scene from the HBO documentary McMillions. Photo / Supplied

"When it went through I contacted some FBI agents and they all said this was their favourite case and that no one had ever contacted them about it and they would love to work on it," says Hernandez. "At that point I called up Brian and said 'let's grab some lunch and talk about this – I think it could be really big'."

What the pair discovered over the course making McMillion$ left them as gobsmacked as the viewers of the documentary, which streams on Binge from tomorrow. In a nutshell, a shadowy figure known as "Uncle Jerry" had found a way to steal the rare, winning game tokens from the secure printing facility used by McDonald's to make them, and then assembled a network of family and friends – not to mention a member of the infamous New York Colombo crime family – to claim the prizes and split the proceeds.

And while the FBI were immediately happy to let the pair scour through documents and files – and interview many of the key agents, including the hilariously enthusiastic Doug Matthews, and prosecutors involved, the intensely brand-conscious McDonald's took a lot more convincing.

Directors of HBO documentary McMillions, James Lee Hernandez and Brian Lazarte. Photo / Supplied

"At first reaching out to them, they were very skittish about it," says Hernandez. "And to be totally honest with you, they said no. It's very understandable because McDonald's has a target on them at all times."

The documentary reveals the hamburger chain wasn't even sure it wanted to co-operate with the FBI to crack the case at the time and considered shutting down the popular promo entirely. News of the court case had dropped right before the September 11 terrorist attacks, pushing it into the background, and McDonald's was initially uncertain as to whether it wanted the affair resurrected in McMillion$.

They had been burned by documentaries before, but the persistence and sincerity of Hernandez and Lazarte, who flew to corporate headquarters in Chicago to present their case, paid off and McDonald's agreed to come on board, providing not just valuable insights into their security and procedures, but also just how big a deal the Monopoly game was for them.

FBI agents say the McDonald's Monopoly fraud was one of their favourite cases. Photo / Supplied

"This had never been done before," says Lazarte. "We had never seen the possibility of winning a million dollars off a large french fries or a soda, so it did captivate and excite people to do something like buy a Big Mac with the possibility of it changing their life."

While the FBI gave them the groundwork for the case, the crime-fighting bureau was only interested in enough facts and details to secure arrests and prosecutions, leaving Hernandez and Lazarte to fill in the gaps. By contacting those involved in the scam, many of whom proved to be surprisingly eager to give their side of the story, they not only could paint a much more complete picture but also give some context as to why they did it.

"Most of it was our own investigation and talking with each of the subjects who were part of it," says Lazarte. "And speaking in great detail to the federal prosecutor and the FBI and also the 'winners' and the recruiters – the people who were claiming these prizes, they all had interesting and fantastic stories to contribute. How they did it, their position in life – that was another thing we were really focused on – how to really relate to those people.

"Most people, at least those who were playing that game in the '90s, would likely have taken the bait of agreeing to lie in order to get a million dollars, because everyone wanted to win that game."