Inside the Fake Celebrity Podcast Scam Fooling Hollywood

When Seth Rudetsky received an invitation to appear on Nikki Glaser’s podcast, he had no particular reason to think it wasn’t real.

Rudetsky, the Broadway performer and SiriusXM host, gets asked to do podcasts all the time. Better yet, this one was offering him between $4,000 and $5,000 to appear. “Oh my God, they’re actually paying for a podcast,” he remembers thinking. A Glaser fan, Rudetsky quickly said yes.

The invitation also seemed to know an awful lot about him. It mentioned his Broadway cruise and his work with Sara Bareilles — the kind of details that suggested somebody had actually done their homework. Related Stories Lifestyle Leslie Jordan to Receive Posthumous Life Achievement Award at Hollywood Museum Movies Bruce Vilanch Compares Will Smith Oscar Slap to 1954's 'A Star Is Born'

“All these specific things about my career,” Rudetsky recalls. “I’m like, oh my God, they totally know my work.”

Rudetsky had stumbled into an increasingly sophisticated scam in which fraudsters impersonate famous podcasters and their representatives, using flattering, highly personalized invitations — most likely composed by AI — to lure prospective guests into handing over money, login credentials or control of social media accounts.

And he is not the only recognizable Hollywood figure who fell for it. Bruce Vilanch believed Terry Gross wanted him on Fresh Air .

“It was so articulate and so like her,” the veteran comedy writer and performer tells The Hollywood Reporter of an email he believed came from Gross. The correspondence that followed was equally persuasive, laying out the subjects the person identifying themselves as Gross intended to discuss with him, demonstrating what appeared to be deep, actual knowledge of Vilanch’s work.

There were, of course, red flags, in retrospect at least. Vilanch knew Fresh Air was an NPR production with an entire organization behind it, yet Gross seemed to be personally handling the booking. He decided perhaps she was simply “a maverick.”

Then “Gross” asked him for money. The explanation was tailored to the moment: NPR was a nonprofit, they explained, but the government had cut funding and the organization needed help. Vilanch found the request strange, but by then the correspondence had established enough credibility that he decided to contribute.

But the scammers didn’t disappear after getting his money. They continued preparing him for his Fresh Air appearance, sending more questions and ultimately scheduling the interview. When the appointed day arrived, Vilanch clicked the link. Three windows appeared on his screen: himself, one labeled NPR and a third containing a man.

“Hello, this is Mike,” the man told him. “I will be conducting the interview.”

“No, you won’t,” he replied. “I’m talking to Terry or I’m talking to nobody.”

The man explained that Gross was conducting another interview. Vilanch’s skepticism finally overwhelmed his willingness to believe. He waited about 15 minutes, then left.