The Optimist
- Mar 18
- 5 min read
The Optimist is a deeply moving historical drama that tells the true story of Holocaust survivor Herbert Heller and the extraordinary way he transformed unimaginable trauma into a lifelong mission of hope and healing.
The film follows two parallel narratives. One traces Herbert’s harrowing journey as a Jewish teenager imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps during World War II, where he witnesses brutality, loss, and the destruction of his childhood. The other centers on Abby, a troubled modern-day teenager struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts.
As Herbert, now an elderly man, begins sharing his story with young people, his past and Abby’s present become emotionally intertwined. Through his testimony—delivered with compassion, humility, and resilience—he reaches those who feel lost, helping them see their pain in a broader human context while offering a message of survival and purpose.
Blending historical trauma with contemporary mental health struggles, The Optimist explores themes of memory, resilience, survivor’s guilt, and the transformative power of storytelling.
Ultimately, it is a film about choosing hope in the face of darkness—and using one’s past not as a burden, but as a way to uplift others.
Interview with Writer & Filmmaker Finn Taylor
Finn Taylor shares insights on the film's themes, emotional storytelling, and how it intertwined the horrors of the Holocaust with the struggles of modern youth. The conversation touches on Herbert's personal story, trauma, survival, and his dedication to healing others through sharing his experience.
Interviewer: Nicole Kent
Your film is incredibly powerful, and I’m particularly moved by how you blended the Holocaust narrative with a young girl’s struggle with depression. How did you come to merge these two elements in your story?
The idea came from our producer, Janine Thoms, who felt it was essential for Herbert’s impact to resonate with young people. His story, especially his connection with teenagers, was central to the film. When you look at kids today—especially in the West—they often take their privileges for granted, unaware of the deep historical suffering others endured. By linking Herbert’s trauma with the modern-day struggles of someone like Abby, we wanted to remind viewers of their blessings, but also show how suffering is universal. That’s what struck me most about Herbert: despite all his pain, he was so generous in sharing his story without judgment, offering hope to others.
What drew you to Herbert Heller's story?
My own personal connection—my family’s history during the war, and my own struggles as a teenager—it became clear I could bring something unique to the project. There was also a deep sense of responsibility. Janine and Herbert’s story were my North Star throughout the process, but it was during a trip to Auschwitz that the material really came alive for me. Seeing the rooms filled with human hair, hearing about the art created in defiance to brutality, and feeling the weight of the history—it made the script evolve. Those experiences grounded the entire production.
Could you share more about how Herbert's experience impacted his life post-Holocaust, especially in relation to his family?
Herbert's life was remarkable, especially because he kept his story hidden for so long. He never told his children about his experiences until he was in his 70s. And even then, he struggled with it. His family didn’t know until he was deep in the trauma, facing major surgeries, and thinking he might not survive. I think it was that brush with mortality that made him realize he wanted his family to know the truth. He often said he didn’t want to upset anyone, but there was a certain point when he saw it as necessary. He had survivor’s guilt—why was he lucky enough to survive when so many others didn’t?
How did you get such powerful performances from your actors, especially the young cast. What did you do to help them connect with such emotional material?
We were lucky to have an incredibly talented cast, and I think they understood the material deeply from the start. For example, Luke David Blum, who played young Herbert, truly got into the mindset of the character. I remember him listening to Uman’s music, even before we started filming, to get into the emotional state for his scenes. For me, it was about creating an environment where the actors could immerse themselves in the story. The young actors had access to the older performers as well—so Luke could watch Stephen Lang’s portrayal of Herbert, which helped him understand the full emotional arc of the character. Ultimately, the actors brought their own depth and understanding to the roles, which was just magical to witness.
There are moments in the film when Herbert is triggered by certain things, like the sight of black boots or war-related images. Can you talk more about how you captured those nuances in the film?
It’s interesting because Herbert was such a complex person. After the war, he carried these subtle triggers with him, like seeing things on TV or encountering certain objects, and it would bring the trauma back. But what was striking is that over time, especially after years of sharing his story, he began to lighten up emotionally. He still had his triggers, but telling his story to young people—particularly troubled teens—seemed to lift some of that weight. In the film, I tried to capture that by using subtle flashbacks that aligned with those triggers. It wasn’t always explicit, but it was important to show that even after surviving such a trauma, there were deep scars that would never fully heal.
Speaking of young people, how has the film been received by younger generations?
The response from young people has been incredibly strong. We’ve screened the film worldwide, including in places like the Central Valley in California, which has a large immigrant population. What’s striking is that many young people in the U.S. are not familiar with the internment camps, the Holocaust, or the history of World War II. That lack of knowledge was evident when I showed the film to some kids who were shocked to learn about death camps. It reminded me how important it is to keep this history alive for younger generations.
Do you think that sharing and remembering history can be a form of therapy for survivors, or even for younger people dealing with their own struggles?
I think for Herbert, sharing his story became a kind of therapy. It was a way for him to process the trauma, and he could connect with the young people he was speaking to in a meaningful way. For them, it was like someone truly understood their pain. What made it unique was that Herbert never judged them; he just shared his own journey and listened. He didn’t have all the answers, but his presence, his generosity, and his openness gave young people something they could hold onto.
This concludes the interview, shedding light on the deep emotional and historical layers that make the film not just a portrayal of one man’s life, but also a reflection on the universal human experience of trauma, healing, and the importance of memory in an ever-changing world.
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