Over the year I spent getting to know Phil Simmons, I was repeatedly impressed with his ability to find pleasure and humour in life’s uncanny ironies. He was a man who delighted in words and wit, a writer with a keen eye for the nuances of character and drama, but his greatest pleasure seemed to come from the tragicomedy of life itself. And as he became increasingly incapacitated, he learned to transform his personal tragedy into a subtle but refined performance addressed to a world in need of healing. And that became his gift to himself, to his family and friends, to the many audiences to whom he performed his compelling vision of living and dying.

Phil so eloquently described his unique perspective as “a front row seat at his own demise”. He was a gifted writer, professor and public speaker, but he was also just ‘a regular guy’. And perhaps it is because of his ordinariness that his journey towards death is one which speaks to a very accessible part of many of us. It is that journey, travelled with grace, humour and lucidity, which I tried to portray in The Man Who Learned to Fall.

Garry Beitel
Director