Rejecting the Fake.
At 45, Nigel Pembroke had everything hed ever dreamed ofCEO of Pinewood Studios, a lavish country house in the Cotswolds, a flashy Aston Martin, and a contacts list full of A-list celebrities. Yet, at the peak of his career, he stunned everyone by walking away from the film industry, selling everything he owned, and vanishing from the glitzy world of cinema.
I couldve easily stayed in the business till I dropped. I wasnt unhappier than any other successful film exec in London, Nigel tells me. From the outside, youd say I had it made. But I couldnt say the same on the inside.
His journey to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, was almost accidental. He took his first proper holiday in twelve years to explore Buddhist temples across Asia, with Cambodia just a pitstop. Sitting in a local café, Nigel handed some cash to a homeless child. A fellow diner who struck up a conversation said, If you want to make a real difference, go to the city dump. Nigel cant explain why, but he took the advice.
What I saw knocked the wind out of me, Nigel recalls. Dozens of kids picking through rubbish just to survive another day. The stench was something you could practically grab. Like most, I assumed charities handled these thingsbut there I stood, alone, with no social workers in sight. Either I did something, or they stayed there. I couldve walked away, pretended I never saw it. But for the first time, I felt like I was meant to be there.
That same day, Nigel rented flats for two homeless children, moving them away from the dump and arranging medical care. Supporting a child in Cambodia costs just £30 a month, he says. I felt ashamed it was that simple.
On the flight back to London, Nigel wondered if helping these children was his true calling, then questioned where such thoughts even came from. I worried it might be a midlife crisis. And Id seen how ugly those get in the film industry, he admits.
For the next year, Nigel spent three weeks in London and one in Phnom Penh. I kept waiting for a sign I was doing the right thing, he says. Then one day, one of Hollywoods top five actors called me. We had negotiations the next day, and he was fuming because his private jet served the wrong meal. He shouted down the phone, word for word, My life shouldnt be this hard! Meanwhile, I was standing opposite a dump, watching kids slowly starve. If there was ever a sign my old life was all smoke and mirrorsthat was it. I knew I had to leave.
Everyone tried to talk him out of it. But Nigel sold everything, calculating the money could support two hundred children for eight years. He spent those years building the Cambodian Childrens Fund, providing education, housing, and healthcare.
Ten years on, Nigels care extends to two thousand children. He no longer funds it aloneformer colleagues and followers now chip in. And he still has no children of his own. Never married, never felt the need. Being a bachelor in the film world was too cushy, he laughs. There were lovely women in London, but I couldnt imagine settling down with any. Now Ive got plenty of kids to look after. In ten years, theyll care for me, and Ill be their grandad.
His weekends used to be filled with yacht trips and ping-pong matches with mates. Now, the former studio boss spends his days at the dump. Ive never once missed London. The freedom from corporate life is indescribable, he says. When I ask the obviousdoes he miss his old life?he grins. Just the yacht. There was something about the open water.
