Creativity lies at the heart of many disciplines. Encouraged from a very young age to pursue art, it seemed inevitable that sooner or later Phil would be doing the one thing he loved most, making movies. Phil’s life was colourful. He’d loved and lost, married and divorced and even after losing his medical practice, he always looked for and found the silver lining.
He discovers some old footage he shot when he was younger and cottons on an old story-line that fires up his enthusiasm to do the one thing that was all about what he wanted, writing and shooting. He could forget that his wife cheated on him with the church pastor, gardener and the divorce lawyer whose shih tzu had the incredible knack of taking a dump by his letterbox (every morning). He could overlook that he lost his mal-practice suit to a two-bit silver-tongued shyster who somehow managed to convince Phil’s defence lawyer that Phil was negligent and may even have been self-prescribing following the break-up of his marriage. (Phil was happy for them but declined the invitation to their engagement party).
Now with the foreclosure on his house imminent what is there to lose? The stars are aligning and Phil has a sense his time is coming. He manages to get the support he needs to realise his script but unfortunately Phil’s trusting nature has no place in the dog eat dog world of film (and we’re not talking shih tzus). His trust betrayed again, he has been left with nothing except for a basement full of surgical utensils. His film partners will pay. THEY WILL ALL PAY. Phil Maker has left the building.
Dr. Phil is in.