Latest news with #HellsAngels
Toronto Star
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Toronto Star
Stratford Festival's much-awaited ‘Macbeth' — with motorcycles and violent gangs — is a feeble letdown
Macbeth 2 stars (out of 4) By William Shakespeare, directed by Robert Lepage. Until Nov. 2 at the Avon Theatre, 99 Downie St., Stratford Ont. or 1800-567-1600 STRATFORD — I shudder when I think about how much money was poured into the Stratford Festival's latest 'Macbeth,' which opened Wednesday at the Avon Theatre. Inside The program of director Robert Lepage's production, created in collaboration with his company Ex Machina, is a four-page insert listing the hundreds of donors who have bankrolled this revival, which will tour to Montreal, Quebec City and Ottawa next year. Indeed, it's an expensive, extravagant and altogether epic endeavour. And yet, this highly anticipated staging amounts to nothing more than a feeble letdown, despite some glimpses of brilliance and its starry cast of Stratford favourites. ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW Lepage sets his version of the Scottish Play in the context of the Quebec Biker War, a drug-related turf war between two motorcycle gangs that terrorized the city of Montreal for nearly a decade, leaving more than 160 people dead between 1994 and 2002. Ariane Sauvé's set drops the audience into the heart of the action. Its centrepiece is an imposing two-storey motel, frequented by Macbeth (Tom McCamus) and his fellow outlaws, dressed in leather (the costumes are designed by Michael Gianfrancesco) and riding on spiffed-up motorcycles that zoom around the stage. Impressive as this mise-en-scène is, however, Lepage's high-concept and heavily edited treatment feels like it's constantly trying to square a circle. Any attempt to draw parallels between these 'Macbeth' characters and the historical figures involved in the Quebec Biker War only proves futile. Tom McCamus as Macbeth in 'Macbeth.' David Hou/Stratford Festival Is King Duncan (David Collins) supposed to represent former Hells Angels leader Maurice Boucher? Is the story meant to depict the warring factions and hierarchy within a single group — or between two opposing gangs? None of this is entirely clear. Lepage says in his program note that any director leading a production of 'Macbeth' should 'choose a context in which contemporary audiences can better grasp the twists and turns of the intrigue and the psychological complexities of the characters.' But instead of offering clarity, his own concept — as typical of most Shakespeare productions placed in a setting that's based on a real historical event — merely adds more confusion. The most laughably ridiculous moment: when Macduff (Tom Rooney) and his gang of burly biker men start chopping down Birnam Wood to use as 'camouflage' as they stage their final attack on Macbeth. ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW If you're able to look past these incongruities, there are bright spots to this production — at times imaginative and cheeky, throwing reverence to the wind. In particular, some of the design elements conceived by Lepage are stunning. Perhaps his greatest coup de theatre comes right at the top of the show: In his prologue, two assassins steer a small boat into the middle of the lake. In it is the traitorous Thane of Cawdor, his head tied up in a gunny sack. The men strap him to a pair of concrete blocks, then push him overboard, setting forth a chain of events that will see Macbeth driven to madness by his own ambition and thirst for power. Later on, Lepage pulls off yet another. I'm loathe to spoil what it is, but it involves a scorching scene transition between Banquo's murder and Macbeth's banquet (depicted here, of course, as a backyard barbecue cookout). There's a cinematic feel to much of this production. (After the prologue, in fact, Lepage projects a series of opening credits onto a screen at the front of the stage.) But in the end, these visual set pieces feel more like self-serving gimmicks, some of which hinder instead of help to serve the story itself. Members of the company in 'Macbeth.' David Hou/Stratford Festival Sauvé's set is so large and unwieldy that the scene transitions, particularly in the first half, take far too long, killing any sense of momentum. Those motorcycles are also so overused that by the fifth or sixth time they're rolled out, I wondered if Lepage was just trying to justify the expense of making them. A poorly conceived production of 'Macbeth' can be redeemed by a strong set of performances. But that's not the case here. Throughout, I rarely got the sense from this ensemble that they're living in a world of hypermasculinity and violence. ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW With his deep, sonorous voice, McCamus' rather traditional take on Macbeth is cold and calculating. But though great in the first half of the play, McCamus overdoes his subsequent scenes of madness. Writhing on the floor, like a helpless creature, it feels as though he's playing a caricature of Macbeth rather than the character himself. As Lady Macbeth, Lucy Peacock delivers a performance that's similarly one of diminishing returns. She's terrifyingly domineering and manipulative early on, goading her husband into murdering Duncan and seizing the crown. Peacock's voice, almost maniacal, flirts between complete seriousness and carefree glibness. But Peacock's interpretation of Lady Macbeth's famous sleepwalking scene feels surprisingly dull, with her speech lacking both energy and a coherent through-line on opening night. From front-left: Tom Rooney as Macduff, André Sills as Ross and Austin Eckert as Malcolm with members of the company in 'Macbeth.' David Hou/Stratford Festival Graham Abbey fares far better as Banquo, Macbeth's friend-turned nemesis. But both Collins and Rooney are uncharacteristically stiff and, at times, unintelligible. (The poor sound amplification, and the fact they're all miked, is part of the problem.) Among the bikers, however, it's André Sills and Emilio Vieira who are most convincing, as Ross and Lennox, respectively. Kudos to Maria Vacratsis, as well, who plays the Porter (the motel manager in this version) and milks the laughs with her sexually charged speech in the second act. The witches (played by Aidan deSalaiz, Paul Dunn and Anthony Palermo) are portrayed as a trio of transgender prostitutes and drug addicts, scorned by Macbeth, yet whose prophesies lead to his downfall. This is a fascinating take, but one that I felt could be presented more sensitively. You really could say that about this production as a whole. Brash and bold yet lacking in its finer details, it's proof that no amount of money nor special effects can correct for a misguided vision.
New York Times
6 days ago
- Politics
- New York Times
He inspired the movie ‘Casino.' Meet the college football player who testified against him
Paige Bruce was in fifth grade the first time her father disappeared. As a child, she didn't know where he was or why the men took him away. Once Paige knew the full story, it all made sense: the dark sunglasses, the hushed conversations, the reason her father always sat next to the exit at a restaurant. All she knew at the time was she didn't have to ride the bus to school while he was gone. The men from the FBI would drive her instead. Advertisement Mickey Bruce was a strong guy, a former football star at the University of Oregon and a criminal defense attorney who represented bikers from the Hells Angels. It took a lot to scare him. He put on a brave face in front of the kids. But as she got older, Paige learned there was another side to her father's life. In 1961, when he was a senior in college, Mickey made an enemy of a dangerous man. When he disappeared, Paige realized, it was because the FBI had taken him to a safe house. The second time it happened, the agents showed up at Mickey's law office. Paige, who'd just graduated from high school, worked there as a receptionist. 'I'm like, 'What the hell is going on?'' Paige said. 'They took him away for, like, three days. Then he came back and said, 'Yep, everything's good.'' Around the same time, Paige came across a story about the attempted assassination of a gambler named Frank 'Lefty' Rosenthal, a notorious Las Vegas figure who managed casinos controlled by the mob. The 1995 movie 'Casino' is a fictionalized portrayal of Rosenthal's real-life battles with the Nevada Gaming Commission, starring Robert De Niro as Ace Rothstein, a character inspired by Rosenthal. On Oct. 4, 1982, Rosenthal was leaving a Las Vegas restaurant when his Cadillac Eldorado burst into flames. Thanks to a metal plate under his seat, Rosenthal walked away with only minor burns. When she heard about the car bombing, Paige began to understand the kinds of characters her father was dealing with. 'I think about how public of a person he was,' Paige said. 'He's always in court, always at his office, always at home. That's kind of scary to think about now.' The story of Mickey and Lefty began in 1960 at a Dearborn, Mich., hotel. Mickey later testified at a Congressional hearing that Rosenthal and another man offered him $5,000 to shave points in a football game between Oregon and Michigan. Thanks to Mickey's testimony, Lefty's face was splashed on the front pages of newspapers across the country, his left hand tugging anxiously at the knot of his tie, lower lip jutting out in a De Niro-esque pout. For the next five decades, until both men died of natural causes, their lives would be intertwined, the football player and the Vegas fixer who became central characters in a nationwide gambling scandal. Advertisement Mickey's Senate testimony surfaced again in the 1970s, when Rosenthal was fighting the Nevada Gaming Commission for a license that would allow him to continue operating Las Vegas casinos. Attorneys wanted Mickey to come to Las Vegas and testify against Rosenthal at a hearing. This time, Mickey declined. 'He didn't go because of comments that were made by Lefty's attorney that if he came to Las Vegas he would … something about the sand,' said Mickey's wife, Patsy Bruce. 'That they would find him in the desert.' She paused. 'We never went to Las Vegas.' Gambling scandals are nothing new in college sports. The Athletic reported in April that the FBI is investigating ties between gamblers who bet on Jontay Porter, a former Toronto Raptors center who admitted to manipulating his own stats for gambling purposes, and suspicious betting activity involving five college basketball programs. Those allegations harken back to investigations in the 1950s and 1960s, when rumors of point-shaving, poisonings and other shady dealings ran rampant. City College of New York, the NCAA and NIT champion in 1950, was at the center of a nationwide point-shaving scandal that reached 32 players and seven schools. The CCNY scandal prompted schools and regulators to become even more vigilant about the influence of gamblers in college sports. Those efforts didn't stop gamblers like Lefty Rosenthal from running underground bookmaking operations using the technology of the time: long-distance phone lines. As a young man in Chicago, Rosenthal bet on horse races and baseball games involving the Cubs and White Sox. In 1957, he attracted the attention of the criminal division of the Illinois Bell Telephone Company, which found him running gambling operations out of three storefronts: a delivery service, a trucking company and a home remodeling company. Feeling the heat, Rosenthal left Chicago and moved to Miami, where he ran a bookmaking operation out of his condo. Advertisement On Sept. 23, 1960, Rosenthal checked into the Dearborn Inn under the alias 'Frank Grosscup,' accompanied by a Brooklyn school teacher and former college basketball player named Dave Budin. The same day, a plane carrying Mickey Bruce and his Oregon teammates landed at Willow Run Airport for a game against Michigan. On the surface, Mickey was an odd target for a bribery attempt. He was the president of his fraternity, a former Little League World Series star, the son of an attorney and a team captain who played halfback and defensive back. Rosenthal and Budin didn't know much about him, and he knew even less about them. The only connection was an Oregon basketball player named Jimmy Granata who, like Budin, grew up playing on the courts of New York City. Granata told Mickey he had two friends staying at the team hotel who needed tickets. At the hotel, Budin introduced himself as Jimmy Granata's friend and invited Mickey to his room. Mickey hesitated at first, but Budin assured him it would take only a few minutes. Mickey followed Budin into the hotel room and found Rosenthal waiting inside. As they chatted about the game, Rosenthal mentioned Oregon was a six-point underdog. He asked if it was possible a player could be bribed. Mickey conceded it was. Budin then asked Mickey what it would cost to ensure that Michigan won by at least eight points. 'You are big-time gamblers,' Mickey said, according to his Senate testimony. 'You should know.' 'About $5,000?' Budin offered. 'That is fine,' Mickey replied. Budin and Rosenthal told Mickey they'd pay him an additional $5,000 if he could get quarterback Dave Grosz to go along with the scheme. Mickey agreed and said he needed to go, as he was late for a team walking excursion outside the hotel. The men made plans to meet again at 9 p.m. to finalize the deal. Advertisement Mickey raced to catch up with his teammates and told an assistant coach about the bribe. The coach told Oregon's athletic director, who informed the Michigan State Police. Police told Mickey to show up for the 9 p.m. meeting as planned but didn't attempt to apprehend Budin and Rosenthal that night, which proved to be a crucial mistake. When Mickey returned to the hotel room, Budin and Rosenthal gave him tips about how to carry out the scheme without attracting suspicion. Rosenthal also offered Mickey $100 a week to call him in Miami Beach and update the health of Oregon's team before the weekly betting lines were released. Mickey asked to be paid for the tickets, which were worth about $3 each, and Rosenthal peeled $50 from a roll of $100 bills. Rosenthal said he had to leave later that night but told Mickey to see Budin in the morning to collect the money. Mickey agreed and went back to his room. The next morning, while eating breakfast with his teammates, he saw a state trooper leading Budin out of the hotel in handcuffs. Mickey played his heart out against the Wolverines, hauling in an interception, but it made no difference. Michigan won 21-0, easily covering the six-point spread. Budin was arrested and charged with registering at the hotel under a fake name, a minor offense. By the time the cops showed up that morning, Lefty was long gone, on his way to Miami with no one in pursuit. The Michigan State Police weren't the only ones on the trail. On the same weekend that Budin and Rosenthal tried to bribe Mickey Bruce, a player from Florida reported a similar bribery attempt involving a game between the Gators and Florida State. Authorities began to suspect these were part of an organized gambling ring. Meanwhile, police in Miami noticed suspicious activity at Lefty Rosenthal's condo. On New Year's Eve of 1960, police chief Martin Dardis knocked on Rosenthal's door and found him in his bedroom in his pajamas, telephone in one hand and a small black book in the other. Dardis took the phone and answered calls from bettors around the country, including one from a man named Amos who wanted to place a bet on a football game. Dardis handed the phone to Rosenthal, who said, 'You are talking to a cop, you stupid S.O.B.' During the raid, Rosenthal complained that he'd paid $500 to keep the local police from harassing his bookmaking operation. 'You guys must be kidding,' he said, according to a sergeant's sworn affidavit. 'Evidently you didn't get your piece.' Advertisement In 1961, the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations announced hearings on illicit gambling. The committee was chaired by John McClellan, a Democratic senator from Arkansas who, a few years earlier, oversaw a Senate investigation into corruption allegations involving Teamsters president Jimmy Hoffa. The chief counsel to the McClellan committee, Robert F. Kennedy, became attorney general in 1961 and was determined to crack down on organized crime. Over three weeks in late summer, the McClellan committee hauled accused gamblers, including Lefty Rosenthal, to Washington, D.C., and grilled them about their activities. When it was Rosenthal's turn to testify, the committee asked if he recognized anyone from a list of accused gamblers and mob figures: Fi-Fi Buccieri, Sam 'Mooney' Giancana, Gussie Alex, Sam Minkus. Rosenthal took the Fifth in response to every question, including one about whether he was left-handed. Finally, the committee's lead counsel, Jerome Alderman, asked the million-dollar question: 'Have you ever specifically tried to bribe any football players in the Oregon-Michigan games?' When Rosenthal declined to answer, the committee called its star witness, Mickey Bruce. Mickey described the bribe attempt in detail, recounting how Dave Budin approached him at the hotel and initiated the meeting with another man, a 'blond fellow' with a receding hairline. ALDERMAN: 'Do you recognize anybody in this room as that man?' BRUCE: 'Yes, sir.' ALDERMAN: 'Who is that?' BRUCE: 'The man sitting at my left.' ALDERMAN: 'Would you point him out?' MCCLELLAN: 'Are you talking about —' BRUCE: 'Mr. Rosenthal here.' That dramatic reveal doubled as a rebuke of the Michigan State Police, who failed to connect the dots and place Lefty Rosenthal in the hotel room that night. Police in Michigan had gotten Rosenthal's name from police in Miami by tracing phone calls from his room at the Dearborn Inn, but they let the trail go cold. Lt. Carl Robinson, head of the Michigan racket squad, was asked by one of the senators if police now had enough evidence to pursue bribery charges against Rosenthal. Advertisement 'If Mr. Bruce would testify,' Robinson answered. 'That was our problem before.' 'Mr. Bruce will testify,' the senator responded. With Mickey's help, the committee succeeded in putting a face on the shadowy world of illicit gambling. As the hearings concluded, McClellan applauded Mickey's integrity and held him up as an example for college athletes around the country. 'I hope if any of them are ever approached in any way by this crooked element that would defile and corrupt the youth of our country, that they will follow the example that you set here today,' McClellan said. 'I certainly commend you, and I think all decent Americans applaud you for what you have done.' Days later, President John F. Kennedy signed the Wire Act, which made it a federal crime for gamblers to use interstate telephone lines to transmit betting information. Mickey was hailed as a hero, and people from around the country sent him letters praising his courage. Police had what appeared to be an open-and-shut case linking Lefty Rosenthal to the attempted bribe and assurances that Mickey would cooperate. But Lefty was not an easy man to catch. In February 1962, a few months after the Senate hearings, detectives knocked on the door of Rosenthal's condo in Miami. Rosenthal came to the door sporting dapper attire and, according to one newspaper account, painted fingernails. 'I've been expecting you,' he said. The detectives arrested Rosenthal, but not for bribing Mickey Bruce. Instead, Rosenthal and Budin faced charges in North Carolina for offering $500 to Ray Paprocky, a basketball player at NYU, to shave points in a 1960 NCAA Tournament game against West Virginia. Authorities had uncovered a nationwide network of fixers who conspired to influence hundreds of college basketball games over a five-year period. In all, 37 players from 22 schools were arrested on charges related to point shaving. Rosenthal pleaded no contest and was fined $6,000 for attempting to fix the NYU-West Virginia game, though he later maintained his innocence and said Budin fed his name to authorities in hopes of receiving a lighter sentence. Advertisement 'David Budin would have given his mother up to stay away from what he had to face,' Rosenthal said in a 1976 hearing in front of the Nevada Gaming Control Board. Despite the evidence against him, Rosenthal never faced charges in Michigan. The reason, it appears, is that the Michigan State Police missed their chance to get a statement from Mickey Bruce. After getting embarrassed in the McClellan hearings, authorities in Michigan tried to salvage their investigation by asking Mickey to travel to Detroit and give a sworn statement. Oregon's athletic director offered a compromise, suggesting that authorities could interview Mickey in Columbus, Ohio, before a game against Ohio State in November 1961. Mickey, out for the season with a shoulder injury, refused to make the trip and said he was done testifying against Rosenthal. 'My obligation has been served,' Mickey told the Eugene Register-Guard. 'I have no obligation to do anything anymore.' Mickey told the newspaper he wasn't afraid to testify — he'd done it once, after all — but he was busy with schoolwork and his fraternity. In his eyes, Michigan police had botched the investigation once, and there was no guarantee they wouldn't do it again. Mickey said he'd consulted his father, an attorney in El Cajon, Calif., for legal advice but insisted he'd made his own decision. For all the adulation he received for testifying in front of the committee, Mickey got plenty of ribbing, too. He was tired of hearing about Lefty Rosenthal and the bribe. 'That's getting old,' he told the newspaper. 'I just want to forget it.' Mickey had done his civic duty by reporting the bribe and traveling to Washington, D.C., to testify. Still, in all of the reporting about Mickey's case, the question of why he didn't return to speak with the Michigan police lingered as an unsolved mystery. Advertisement An answer may be hidden in Lefty's FBI case file, posted online after his death. Buried in hundreds of pages of documents is a single paragraph from a report made to police in El Cajon, Calif., where Mickey's parents lived, on Sept. 8, 1961, the day Mickey testified in front of the McClellan committee. The names are redacted, but the story is easy to decipher: El Cajon, California, PD advised that on 9/8/61, (name redacted) El Cajon received a telephone call from an unidentified male asking if (name redacted) was there. (Name redacted) answered in the negative, at which time this person uttered an oath and added, 'You're going to get it, and so is he.' (Name redacted) advised the son had recently testified before a Congressional Committee at Washington, D.C., regarding a bribery attempt on him by Frank Rosenthal. Paige Bruce let out a gasp when a reporter informed her of the phone call. Her father shielded her from those kinds of details, though she always sensed there was more beneath the surface. Patsy Bruce, now living in Oregon, declined to discuss specific threats but acknowledged Mickey's parents had reasons to fear for his safety. 'I think he didn't feel safe to go back to Michigan to talk,' Patsy said. 'He was really getting directions from his parents. They were greatly affected by it because it was nationwide.' When he pointed his finger at Lefty Rosenthal, Mickey had no way to know that the shadow would linger for nearly 50 years, until Rosenthal died of a heart attack in 2008. Mickey, who died three years later at 70, didn't see Lefty's death as any kind of liberation, Patsy said. He was already at peace, knowing he never played harder in his life than he did that day at Michigan Stadium. 'A kid in college never thinks of that kind of stuff, how this is going to affect you in the long run,' Patsy said. 'It didn't matter. He would have done exactly the same thing.' (Illustration: Will Tullos / The Athletic; photo of Mickey Bruce courtesy of Patsy Bruce; photo of Lefty Rosenthal via Getty Images; photo of the 1960 Michigan-Oregon game via Bentley Historical Library / Bentley Image Bank)
CTV News
27-05-2025
- General
- CTV News
Judge sides with man facing possible deportation to Italy over alleged organized crime ties in Ontario
A Canada Border Services Agency uniform is seen at the CBSA Lansdowne port of entry in Lansdowne, Ont., on Wednesday, Feb. 12, 2025. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Spencer Colby A hearing to determine whether a man arrested in an OPP organized crime probe should be sent back to Italy will not proceed after a federal court judge ruled that the reasons for the decision were 'unreasonable.' In his written findings released last month, Justice John Norris set aside a decision made back in 2023 by a delegate for the Minister of Public Safety, referring 62-year-old Giorgio Campagna for an admissibility hearing with the Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada. According to court documents, Campagna, who has been a permanent resident of Canada since the age 5 but never obtained citizenship, was one of 28 people arrested back in 2019 in connection with Project Hobart, an OPP probe that investigators previously said targeted 'a lucrative online and traditional gaming enterprise involving members of known organized crime groups,' including the Hells Angels. At the time, police said the project had specifically targeted four known or prospective members of the Hells Angels, including Robert Barletta, Eugenio 'Gino' Reda, Raffaele Simonelli, and Craig McIlquham, who was killed last month in a deadly shooting outside a Burlington restaurant. An illegal gaming house operating in a cafe in Mississauga, located at 680 Silver Creek Blvd., had been part of the Project Hobart investigation and seven gaming machines were seized during a search of the cafe back in December 2019. According to an agreed statement of facts referenced in the court documents, between March and October 2019, Campagna was responsible for collecting cash from those machines, and on some occasions, counting proceeds from the machines with others. The facts also state that investigators believed he collected about 20 per cent of the proceeds for himself. Police initially charged Campagna with three counts of bookmaking and one count of commission of an offence for a criminal organization. The court documents indicated that Campagna subsequently pleaded guilty in 2021 to the summary charge of knowingly permitting a place to be used for the purpose of a common gaming house. The other charges previously filed by the Crown were withdrawn. Campagna received a conditional discharge and was placed on probation for one year, a period he completed without incident in March 2022, Norris wrote in his findings. Less than a year after he completed his probation, the court documents stated that Campagna was notified by the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) that a report had been prepared under the Immigration and Refugee Protection Act that stated there were 'reasonable grounds to believe that he is inadmissible' on the basis of 'organized criminality,' specifically for engaging in an illegal gaming enterprise. According to the court documents, Campagna subsequently hired legal counsel who provided 'comprehensive submissions and supporting evidence' as to why 'an order for his removal from Canada should not be sought.' The submissions explained that Campagna has lived in Canada for nearly his entire life and cares for his elderly mother, who has been diagnosed with dementia. They noted that his entire immediate family resides in Canada, including his common law partner of 40 years, his brother and sister, his two sons, and his three grandchildren. It added that he is currently being treated for serious medical conditions, including diabetes, and has suffered two heart attacks and a stroke. Campagna has no friends or family in Italy, according to the submissions, and cannot speak or read the language. The submissions go on to note that Campagna was found guilty of a 'relatively minor offence' and is 'deeply remorseful for his involvement in the activities that led to the criminal charges.' Despite the reasons provided, a delegate for the Minister of Public Safety referred the matter for an admissibility hearing. 'The seriousness of the allegations against him and the interests of the Canadian public far outweigh the potential difficulties which may arise should Mr. Campagna be removed from Canada,' the delegate wrote in 2023. 'Guilt by association' But Norris said that he believes the delegate's decision was 'unreasonable in two key respects,' including the 'assessment of the applicant's criminality' and 'the assessment of the applicant's personal circumstances.' 'The delegate unreasonably elevated the applicant's role in the organization of which he is alleged to be a member in determining that, in all the circumstances, a referral for an admissibility hearing was warranted,' the judge wrote. He noted that the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) decision makers 'went well beyond anything set out expressly or impliedly in the applicant's guilty plea or the agreed statement of facts.' 'While the CBSA decision makers are not precluded from doing so, to be reasonable, any such findings must be supported by transparent, intelligible, and justified reasons grounded in the information before the decision maker,' Norris wrote. 'Instead, the reasoning process appears to be nothing but guilt by association, where the seriousness of the applicant's conduct is determined with reference to any and all of the harms caused by illegal gaming and organized crime, and without any meaningful consideration of the applicant's actual involvement.' Norris added that the delegate's decision was 'flawed in two respects' when it came to apprehending Campagna's 'personal circumstances.' 'The delegate states that there is nothing before him to indicate that the applicant would be unable to communicate in Italy. However, the applicant said exactly this in his submissions and in his supporting evidence. The issue of the applicant's language abilities has a direct bearing on the hardship he would face if removed to Italy,' Norris wrote. He added that the impact to Campagna's health was also not properly addressed, calling the 'reasonableness of the decision into question.' 'The Minister's delegate concluded that the applicant had not established that he would be unable to receive treatment, care and support for his medical conditions if he were to be removed to Italy,' Norris wrote. 'In so concluding, the delegate failed to engage with a critical point advanced by the applicant: that disrupting the continuity of his care in Canada would materially affect the quality of care he would receive for several serious medical conditions.' Norris ruled that the Campagna's application for judicial review will be allowed and the decision of the Minister's delegate 'will be set aside' so the matter can be dealt with by a different decision maker.
CTV News
27-05-2025
- General
- CTV News
‘Unreasonable': Judge sides with man facing possible deportation to Italy over alleged organized crime ties in Ontario
A Canada Border Services Agency uniform is seen at the CBSA Lansdowne port of entry in Lansdowne, Ont., on Wednesday, Feb. 12, 2025. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Spencer Colby A hearing to determine whether a man arrested in an OPP organized crime probe should be sent back to Italy will not proceed after a federal court judge ruled that the reasons for the decision were 'unreasonable.' In his written findings released last month, Justice John Norris set aside a decision made back in 2023 by a delegate for the Minister of Public Safety, referring 62-year-old Giorgio Campagna for an admissibility hearing with the Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada. According to court documents, Campagna, who has been a permanent resident of Canada since the age 5 but never obtained citizenship, was one of 28 people arrested back in 2019 in connection with Project Hobart, an OPP probe that investigators previously said targeted 'a lucrative online and traditional gaming enterprise involving members of known organized crime groups,' including the Hells Angels. At the time, police said the project had specifically targeted four known or prospective members of the Hells Angels, including Robert Barletta, Eugenio 'Gino' Reda, Raffaele Simonelli, and Craig McIlquham, who was killed last month in a deadly shooting outside a Burlington restaurant. An illegal gaming house operating in a cafe in Mississauga, located at 680 Silver Creek Blvd., had been part of the Project Hobart investigation and seven gaming machines were seized during a search of the cafe back in December 2019. According to an agreed statement of facts referenced in the court documents, between March and October 2019, Campagna was responsible for collecting cash from those machines, and on some occasions, counting proceeds from the machines with others. The facts also state that investigators believed he collected about 20 per cent of the proceeds for himself. Police initially charged Campagna with three counts of bookmaking and one count of commission of an offence for a criminal organization. The court documents indicated that Campagna subsequently pleaded guilty in 2021 to the summary charge of knowingly permitting a place to be used for the purpose of a common gaming house. The other charges previously filed by the Crown were withdrawn. Campagna received a conditional discharge and was placed on probation for one year, a period he completed without incident in March 2022, Norris wrote in his findings. Less than a year after he completed his probation, the court documents stated that Campagna was notified by the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) that a report had been prepared under the Immigration and Refugee Protection Act that stated there were 'reasonable grounds to believe that he is inadmissible' on the basis of 'organized criminality,' specifically for engaging in an illegal gaming enterprise. According to the court documents, Campagna subsequently hired legal counsel who provided 'comprehensive submissions and supporting evidence' as to why 'an order for his removal from Canada should not be sought.' The submissions explained that Campagna has lived in Canada for nearly his entire life and cares for his elderly mother, who has been diagnosed with dementia. They noted that his entire immediate family resides in Canada, including his common law partner of 40 years, his brother and sister, his two sons, and his three grandchildren. It added that he is currently being treated for serious medical conditions, including diabetes, and has suffered two heart attacks and a stroke. Campagna has no friends or family in Italy, according to the submissions, and cannot speak or read the language. The submissions go on to note that Campagna was found guilty of a 'relatively minor offence' and is 'deeply remorseful for his involvement in the activities that led to the criminal charges.' Despite the reasons provided, a delegate for the Minister of Public Safety referred the matter for an admissibility hearing. 'The seriousness of the allegations against him and the interests of the Canadian public far outweigh the potential difficulties which may arise should Mr. Campagna be removed from Canada,' the delegate wrote in 2023. 'Guilt by association' But Norris said that he believes the delegate's decision was 'unreasonable in two key respects,' including the 'assessment of the applicant's criminality' and 'the assessment of the applicant's personal circumstances.' 'The delegate unreasonably elevated the applicant's role in the organization of which he is alleged to be a member in determining that, in all the circumstances, a referral for an admissibility hearing was warranted,' the judge wrote. He noted that the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) decision makers 'went well beyond anything set out expressly or impliedly in the applicant's guilty plea or the agreed statement of facts.' 'While the CBSA decision makers are not precluded from doing so, to be reasonable, any such findings must be supported by transparent, intelligible, and justified reasons grounded in the information before the decision maker,' Norris wrote. 'Instead, the reasoning process appears to be nothing but guilt by association, where the seriousness of the applicant's conduct is determined with reference to any and all of the harms caused by illegal gaming and organized crime, and without any meaningful consideration of the applicant's actual involvement.' Norris added that the delegate's decision was 'flawed in two respects' when it came to apprehending Campagna's 'personal circumstances.' 'The delegate states that there is nothing before him to indicate that the applicant would be unable to communicate in Italy. However, the applicant said exactly this in his submissions and in his supporting evidence. The issue of the applicant's language abilities has a direct bearing on the hardship he would face if removed to Italy,' Norris wrote. He added that the impact to Campagna's health was also not properly addressed, calling the 'reasonableness of the decision into question.' 'The Minister's delegate concluded that the applicant had not established that he would be unable to receive treatment, care and support for his medical conditions if he were to be removed to Italy,' Norris wrote. 'In so concluding, the delegate failed to engage with a critical point advanced by the applicant: that disrupting the continuity of his care in Canada would materially affect the quality of care he would receive for several serious medical conditions.' Norris ruled that the Campagna's application for judicial review will be allowed and the decision of the Minister's delegate 'will be set aside' so the matter can be dealt with by a different decision maker.
Toronto Sun
22-05-2025
- Toronto Sun
Son of vanished Hells Angels figure missing, say Quebec police
Published May 22, 2025 • Last updated 1 hour ago • 1 minute read Nicholas David Carroll Photo by Surete du Quebec Quebec police are searching for the son of a former Hells Angels member who disappeared decades ago ahead of a major criminal crackdown. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. THIS CONTENT IS RESERVED FOR SUBSCRIBERS ONLY Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada. Unlimited online access to articles from across Canada with one account. Get exclusive access to the Toronto Sun ePaper, an electronic replica of the print edition that you can share, download and comment on. Enjoy insights and behind-the-scenes analysis from our award-winning journalists. Support local journalists and the next generation of journalists. Daily puzzles including the New York Times Crossword. SUBSCRIBE TO UNLOCK MORE ARTICLES Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada. Unlimited online access to articles from across Canada with one account. Get exclusive access to the Toronto Sun ePaper, an electronic replica of the print edition that you can share, download and comment on. Enjoy insights and behind-the-scenes analysis from our award-winning journalists. Support local journalists and the next generation of journalists. Daily puzzles including the New York Times Crossword. REGISTER / SIGN IN TO UNLOCK MORE ARTICLES Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience. Access articles from across Canada with one account. Share your thoughts and join the conversation in the comments. Enjoy additional articles per month. Get email updates from your favourite authors. THIS ARTICLE IS FREE TO READ REGISTER TO UNLOCK. Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience. Access articles from across Canada with one account Share your thoughts and join the conversation in the comments Enjoy additional articles per month Get email updates from your favourite authors Don't have an account? Create Account Nicholas David Carroll, 35, was last seen on the morning of May 18 leaving his home in Mirabel, the Sûreté du Québec (SQ) said in a statement. His car, a black 2021 Mercedes-Benz S-Class, was later found abandoned under the Route 158 overpass on Archambault Road in Crabtree, about 70 kilometres away. The SQ said his loved ones are concerned for his health and safety. Carroll is the son of David (Wolf) Carroll, a senior member of the Hells Angels who vanished just before Opération Printemps 2001, a sweeping police operation that led to the arrest of dozens of members across Quebec and Montreal. David Carroll has not been seen since and remains one of Canada's most wanted fugitives. His son Nicholas is described as 1.88 metres (6-foot-2) tall, weighing 106 kilograms (233 pounds), with brown hair and brown eyes. He was last seen wearing a white hoodie with an orange circle on the front, hoodie-style shorts, and Nike Air Jordan-style shoes. Anyone with information is asked to call 911 or contact the Sûreté du Québec's Criminal Information Centre confidentially at 1-800-659-4264. Toronto Maple Leafs Tennis Editorial Cartoons World World
