The pair ended up married and on the lam after “stealing millions” (Strangis even parted Melngailis’s worried mother from $400k). The couple were eventually found holed up in a motel room in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. The vegan queen’s undoing? A credit card order for pizza. And in case the pizza isn’t meaty enough, a side order of chicken wings. Bad vegan!
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Strangis refused to participate in the series and didn’t respond to requests for comment. Likewise his mother-in-law. Melngailis is present, remaining as cool as her famous cucumber lasagne, her calm, collected façade only wobbling slightly towards the end. Was she victim or villain? Was she manipulated or more culpable than she lets on?
As is often the case with such series, Bad Vegan isn’t just formulaic but overlong. Across four episodes, the story is stretched thinner than a strand of courgetti. A skilled editor with sharp scissors could have livened up the pace, reduced repetition and snipped an hour off the runtime.
Fraudsters have become the new murderers, thanks to hits such as Tinder Swindler and Inventing Anna. Yet this series is about domination and control as much as scamming. What starts as juicy titillation turns into something darker, switching from frothy gossip into a disturbing insight into twisted power dynamics. By the time Melngailis is imprisoned on Rikers Island, she’s frail and haunted-looking. “Someone get the girl a cheeseburger,” crows one tabloid.
Ultimately, Melngailis was convicted of fraud after pleading guilty to stealing more than $200,000 and scheming to defraud. She and Strangis took plea deals after facing charges of second-degree larceny, second-degree criminal tax fraud, first-degree scheming to defraud and violation of labour law. According to in indictment, Melngailis transferred $1.6m from business accounts to her personal bank account. Strangis had access to her accounts and the film describes how he spent more than $1.2m at casinos alone. The documentary estimates the total unpaid debt to be more than $6m.
Inevitably, you’ll be left feeling furious at Strangis and sorry for those sucked into his psychodrama: investors big and small who lost a fortune, creditors who’ll never get their money back, innocent restaurant staff who went unpaid. You might even sympathise with Melngailis herself, who ends the series as a lonely eccentric.
Bad Vegan, however, is a voyeuristically compelling story that’s ultimately more sad than scandalous. It left me feeling queasy and guilty, like I’d eaten an entire Domino’s pizza with a side order of chicken wings.
Bad Vegan is on Netflix now
