“Mob Cops” isn’t just the worst movie I’ve ever seen — it’s a disgrace to one of the most chilling, extraordinary stories in New York’s criminal history. And no, it’s not just because it involves the brutal murder of my father in 1986. It’s because the filmmakers had pure gold in their hands and still managed to turn it into dust.
The real Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa — the infamous “Mob Cops” — weren’t just dirty cops; they were arguably the most corrupt officers in NYPD history. That’s no small title. Their story is dark, colorful, horrifying, and absolutely riveting. I know, because I lived it. My father, Israel Greenwald, was one of their victims — and not just another name on a list. He was an Orthodox Jew, a devoted husband and father, a successful diamond dealer — an innocent man unknowingly caught in a sinister web spun by the FBI’s desperate need for a witness.
His story is one that should have made audiences cry, gasp, and remember his name. Kidnapped. Murdered. Missing for 19 years before finally being found and buried in Israel. Yet in the movie, his kidnapping and murder are reduced to a brief, barely humanized scene — a blink-and-you-miss-it tragedy, stripped of its heart, its horror, and its humanity.
Instead, the film inexplicably centers its emotional core around the mother of Jimmy Hydel — a mobster tortured and murdered, whose body was never recovered. The final scene (spoiler alert) focuses on her grief over not having a grave to visit. Meanwhile, my father’s story — a victim found, a family given at least some closure after decades of agony — is entirely sidelined. A movie that should have pulled viewers into a tangled, emotional storm ends on a whimper, leaving no one invested, no one moved.
Not a single character is likable. Not a single performance feels authentic. The acting is dreadful. The budget feels embarrassingly low. A saga that demands Martin Scorsese-level treatment was instead given a made-for-TV mediocrity at best. Was our family consulted? Of course not. Had they bothered to do even the most basic research — like visiting israelgreenwald.com — they would have discovered a narrative far more compelling, heart-wrenching, and human.
In a way, I’m grateful they didn’t reach out. I’m relieved we had no hand in this mess. It leaves the door open for someone, someday, to do this story right. If you want to see what it looks like when this story is treated with the gravity and depth it deserves, read Blood and the Badge —by Michael Cannel, a book that captures the tension, tragedy, and humanity the movie completely missed.
Was it traumatic to watch an actor portray my father’s final moments on screen? Absolutely. But it was even more painful to see how little effort was made to honor who he truly was. They missed the chance to touch people’s hearts — and they missed it badly.
How bad was it? My own husband fell asleep halfway through.
If I ever had a chance to tell this story — even with zero screenwriting experience — I know I could do it more justice than Mob Cops ever dreamed of.
