By Michele Yeo
Whatever the reason, there’s no denying people love a good scam story. Whether it’s the Tindler Swindler fleecing lovelorn ladies out of money, the schadenfreude-inducing debacle of the Fyre Festival that spawned not one but two documentaries, the story of the ugliest leggings on earth, LuLaRoe pyramid-scheming thousands of women into believing they’re small business owners, or frizzy blonde biotech entrepreneur Elizabeth Holmes who girl bossed herself into billions and onto the cover of Forbes before landing herself behind bars, there’s something about an unapologetic con artist that grabs our attention. The Elizabeth Holmes story alone generated a book, an HBO documentary based on that book, a massively popular podcast, and an eight-episode series starring Amanda Seyfried as Holmes.
So many scam stories have made it to our screens that The New Yorker named 2018 “Grifter Season.” But content about schemers and scammers, unlike peplum tops, have yet to go out of style. Fast forward to 2025 and we’re still fascinated by these shameless charlatans. There’s an entire podcast, Scam Goddess, dedicated exclusively to scam stories which has recently been adapted into a TV series. But lately, there seems to be a niche subset category of scam stories captivating audiences: people lying about having cancer. Most recently Apple Cider Vinegar, the scripted Netflix version of the “true” story of Belle Gibson, the Australian woman who faked a terminal brain cancer diagnosis. The six-part series starring Kailtyn Devers as the titular character, has engrossed viewers worldwide. Gibson not only lied about her diagnosis, she peddled and profited from dangerous pseudoscience claiming she was keeping her cancer at bay not through traditional methods like chemotherapy and radiation but through a healthy diet. She developed an app and companion book with a major publisher. At best, she scammed people out of their money, at worst she discouraged people who actually had cancer from seeking treatment, convinced they too could beat their illnesses with diet, exercise, and alternative medicine.
While Apple Cider Vinegar may be the latest entry in the cancer con genre, it’s certainly not the only. Late last year, Anatomy of Lies, the story of Elisabeth Finch, the Grey’s Anatomy writer who faked cancer, got the docuseries treatment with a deep dive into her deception. In 2014, Finch, who had previously worked on True Blood and The Vampire Diaries, wrote an essay for Elle magazine about her battle with chondrosarcoma, a brutal form of bone cancer, so compelling it caught the attention of someone at Shondaland, the production company behind Grey’s. Before long Finch was hired to write on the medical drama and, at one point, even incorporated her diagnosis into the show. She eventually climbed the ranks to be a co-executive producer. An inspirational story, for sure, had Finch’s diagnosis not been a complete and total fabrication. And it was just one lie in a web of them. Finch wove a tapestry of tales so elaborate that it was only a matter of time until the jig was up. The most egregious, of course, being her cancer battle. Finch went so far as to shave her head, wear head scarves to work, adorn a fake chemo port to her chest and alter her appearance to look jaundiced and green, presumably a side effect from her treatment. She was so thorough and convincing a fellow member of the Grey’s Anatomy writers room tells the docuseries his thinking at that time was, “my sense was ‘I am going to attend this person’s funeral.’” Finch even took several leaves from work during which she told people she was taking part in clinical trials. After everything inevitably blew up in her face, Vanity Fair magazine profiled Finch’s many frauds in a 2002 two-part investigative series which would serve as the jumping off point for the docuseries. The magazine piece and docuseries also chronicle Finch’s many other lies including claims of sexual harassment, having an abortion, ties to the 2018 shooting at the Tree of Life synagogue, and the suicide of her brother, a man who remains very much alive in Florida.
Before Finch was the cancer con artist du jour, there was Amanda Riley, a young Christian mother in California who captivated people far and wide by blogging from 2012 – 2019 about her harrowing cancer journey. Her entries about battling Hodgkin’s lymphoma were as emotional as they were detailed. Riley shared her many thoughts, fears and struggles along with countless photos of herself bald from chemotherapy, and in the hospital with various tubes attached to her. Her community, particularly the megachurch to which she belonged, rallied around her offering an outpouring of gifts, babysitting services, and, of course, money – more than a hundred thousand dollars worth. Eventually, a skeptical acquaintance tipped off an investigative journalist and Riley’s house of cards came crumbling down. In July of 2020 Riley was charged with wire fraud for soliciting donations to pay for cancer treatments she never needed nor received and in 2022 was sentenced to 60 months behind bars. During her first 18 months of incarceration, Riley complained of various health ailments and was taken to hospital 24 times but was never diagnosed with any kind of physical illness.
The felonious fraudster provided enough fodder to fill the eight-episode podcast series Scamanda which was Apple Podcasts’s most shared show of 2023. Now, like Anatomy of Lies before it, it’s been given the docuseries treatment. The four-part series, also called Scamanda, dropped last month and gave ABC News Studios its most-streamed premiere ever.
So clearly, while we may be perplexed and repulsed by these scam artists, there’s no denying we’re also intrigued and fascinated by them. There’s simply something about trying to understand the twisted psyche of someone who would fabricate having such a devastating disease whilst also taking advantage of the compassion of others. We can only hope that all the content and infamy fueled by these fraudsters doesn’t encourage more people to follow suit. One would assume the inevitable downfall of the scammers would discourage copycats but then again, we’re not talking about mentally well people here.
