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It could be the bravest thing he's ever done. Especially as the last words film-maker Jonothan Cullinane heard from the taxman were: "You are in a great deal of trouble."
Then there's the issue of delivering an entertaining movie where most of the action takes place across a table in an anonymous, government-issue meeting room. We're Here to Help isn't a shoot 'em up, tops-off feature. No, it's the real life tale of the historic tax woes of Christchurch property developer and libertarian, David Henderson.
According to the film, it was our hero's gallantry in defending his lady's honour from an offensive tax official that saw a seemingly straightforward GST refund claim descend into bankruptcy, singledom and a lifetime of meetings before his eventual Pyrrhic victory. And they're playing it for laughs.
Does that sound like a project worth arousing the ire of the grey-shoed, axe-wielders of the Inland Revenue Department?
"My wife asked the same question," says the debut director. "That's why it's lucky that we have no money. If they come after us there's nothing they can do. But is it a risk? I don't know. It was an enormous risk that David took and he did pay a huge price for it. I suppose, and I know it's a horribly over-used term, the culture of [the IRD] has changed. I doubt they would go after people these days with the singleminded vindictiveness they had in the 90s where people were literally being driven to suicide. But then who knows? I'll give you a call on March 7."
At least he's had some previous experience. In the 80s, the IRD got all CSI over the tax arrangements Cullinane had with the subcontractors working on the advertisements he was cutting his directorial teeth on. He fronted up at the Otahuhu branch with reams of paperwork and an accountant to be grilled for an hour by some "Dickensian figure".
"He was using a pencil to turn the pages as though they were too disgraceful to touch."
Cullinane was quickly informed of exactly how much trouble he was in, "a great deal ... ," and then never heard another word. "Maybe he disappeared behind the back of his desk?"
Even without the potential for a Kafkaesque rematch, it still seems an odd subject for a movie treatment, but Cullinane is adamant Henderson's book detailing his struggle had the ingredients for the big rather than small screen: an implacable foe, the collapse of his relationship, the loss of his house, imminent financial disaster, and an unlikely saviour.
"And well, a lot the stuff in it struck me as funny, so I thought the tone was right."
Still, for a comedy it's biggest joke goes unspoken.
We're Here to Help leaves no invoice unturned in painting the IRD as faceless drones with no awareness of the personal impact of their actions and even less interest in accountability, and they helped pay for it.
The Film Commission provided $1.9 million of the taxpayers' hard-earned to ensure the production went ahead. Commission deputy chief executive Mladen Ivancic said the decision was made after they were provided with a script as well as warranties from the producers that it was derived from previously published material.
Which only goes to show what a robust and mature society our country is blessed with says the film's producer and South Pacific Pictures director John Barnett.
"We never had anybody saying to us 'you can't make this film because it brings the IRD into question'. I'd relate it to Beyond Reasonable Doubt and Goodbye Pork Pie. They were hardly flattering to the police, but no one said they couldn't be made. This isn't Eastern Europe. I'm sure if we'd been defamatory or if the story hadn't been based on fact we'd have faced more questioning, but this story is very well-documented. David kept transcripts of all his interviews. In fact, the only question we were asked was how we were going to tell the story."
Actually, the IRD did try to get an advance peek at the script, but they were politely told where to file their request.
So, who is likely to go and see a movie about some guy sorting out his taxes?
"Obviously it's not an action film," says Barnett. "But I think it'll appeal to a middle-class 30-plus audience. It deals with something that happens to almost everybody. Everyone ends up sitting on the phone at some time trying to get through to the IRD, or Telecom, or the gas company or who ever, to deal with some kind of problem. It's about the little guy taking on that system. And winning."
One guy who'll probably have the movie on constant repeat is Act MP Rodney Hide, the story's shining knight played by Michael Hurst who rides into town just as Henderson reaches rock bottom. If he has any complaint it's that the film is too short.
"Of course they had to condense what was a battle over many years down to movie length, so it underestimates how nasty the IRD really were, how pathetic our politicians were, and what they put David through. I think if they wanted to capture all that they would need a movie 10 years long. It wasn't a positive experience."
Oh well, but it should still serve as a great morale booster for the leader of a minor party leader going into an election year.
"You have a lot of bad days in politics, but David has given me three great days. One, when he called me standing outside the IRD building with his refund cheque. Two, when he bought the IRD building, and three when he evicted them."
For their part, the IRD declined to make any comment on the movie. They are auditing David Henderson again instead.
* We're Here to Help opens at cinemas on Thursday
