Ex-mobster Mario Facione was brought to tears multiple times in the documentary about his life, but his emotions had little to do with his rap sheet or the life of crime he led in the '60s and '70s.Facione, who was raised in Michigan, began his career as an extortionist when he was just a grade-schooler and would pay his teacher $50 a week to not report how frequently he skipped class. After years of wrongdoing, Facione made the transition from criminal to Mormon, and director Jason Conforto and producer Dave Lindsay documented the experience in the film "Mario's Conviction," which was shown last Thursday at the LDS Film Festival in Orem, Utah.The title may seem to have a double meaning, but in actuality, Facione was never charged nor convicted of any crimes related to his illegal dealings in the underworld due to statutes of limitations in his state. His conviction of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, however, is evident and real, as he tears up while recounting the changes it propelled in his life.The film relies on interviews with retired police officers, family members and authors to tell the story of how Facione dealt with some of the most powerful mobsters in Detroit, and, just as importantly, how he left the mob. It garners its light-hearted, jovial feel primarily from interviews with Facione himself, who is an animated storyteller.Viewers will find the coordination of his criminal schemes interesting as he details an operation he masterminded to sell stolen construction equipment across state lines. And old photographs and footage the director gathered of area mobsters give an intriguing glimpse into the past.Particularly amusing is the story of how Facione had a separate phone line installed in his house, the number which only people involved in a high-stakes gambling operation would call to place their bets. One day, LDS missionaries stopped by his home, and his then-wife for some reason gave the elders the number to that secret line. Facione became convinced the 19-year-olds were FBI agents or police officers who had found him out. After much deliberation, he arranged a visit, but kept a handgun tucked in the back of his pants, just in case. Facione was baptized soon thereafter.Though humorous throughout, the movie by no means endorses criminal activity, and there are moments where the abject consequences of Facione's decisions are powerfully conveyed. At one point, he talks about how his father taught him to never trust anyone, and how that advice affected him emotionally."I never had true friends ... just associates," he says in the film.Many members of the audience at the showing, like Facione on screen, were moved to tears when he discussed his love for the temple, and how he feels like he can let his guard down and trust the people he works with there.The filmmakers artfully wove the story together, and its pacing made for a good balance of humor and drama. Clips of Facione's wife, who he married after being baptized and whose children call him dad,' are effective in showing his loving side. Interviews with police officers and historical authors put the era of crime Facione was raised in into context.A particularly poignant moment of the film is captured when the audience learns that Facione could hardly read or write before he joined the church, so his bishop assigned him to teach a Sunday School class of 10-year-olds. He was very nervous about the calling, but from the first day forward the kids helped him learn the basics of both the gospel and reading.Facione also reveals some unexpected information when he tells of how former Michigan governor and presidential candidate George Romney, father of Mitt Romney, saved his life through a twist of fate. After Facione's baptism, he decided to cut all ties with the mob bosses with whom he had previously worked. He met a head boss, Joseph Zerilli, and others at an abandoned warehouse, and was certain they were going to kill him when he made his intentions known.After explaining his conversion to the Mormon faith, Facione said Zerilli told him he knew about the Mormons and allowed him to go. Facione wondered what the mob boss had meant by that, and even worried that the church and the mafia were somehow connected. Years later, however, he learned that Zerilli had once tried to bribe newly elected Gov. Romney, and was flatly refused. Romney's character made an impression on Zerilli, and Facione's swears he owes Romney his life for that.Facione's humor and unique perspective did not end when the credits of the film rolled, as he, the director and producer then took the stage for a Q&A session."You'll never get away with what I did, so get it out of your mind," he said to the audience before questions had even been posed.He went on to tear up when he spoke of the experiences he's had talking to inmates at prisons about his life, and how he believes people are capable of change.Perhaps the greatest revelation made, aside from the testimony he bore throughout the film and on stage, is the disclosure of his current profession. Facione is currently employed by the United States Department of Homeland Security.The movie is distributed through Cedar Fort Inc., and available for purchase at various LDS bookstores.
E-mail: mfarmer@desnews.com