anywhere out of the world: The Tragedy of Captain Pity: How Not to Be a Hero in 10 Easy Steps

Wheelchairs, Wounds, and Wannabe Heroes

Ah, "Ungeduld des Herzens" is the kind of film that should come with a warning: If you have any lingering hope for humanity, do not watch this.

Let’s start with Isaac. Ah, Isaac. This is the guy who is about as self-aware as a brick, but with the ambition of a motivational speaker who’s had one too many "just go for it" coffees.

His life is like the slow-motion train wreck of a reality show where everyone competes to be the most misguided.

And Isaac? Well, he’s winning.

Isaac Nasic (played with such a desperate charm by Giulio Brizzi that you almost want to hug him and slap him at the same time) is a Bundeswehr soldier who seems to have confused his military training for a series of bad decisions wrapped in a muscle shirt and an excessive number of tattoos.

You know, the kind of guy who would’ve had a brief, tragic career as a bad guy in an action movie... if he were in an action movie.

Instead, he’s stuck in The Sad Life of Isaac, starring as the world’s least qualified hero.

His bright idea? To rescue Edith, a paralyzed woman with more grit than Isaac will ever muster, from the horrific curse of – wait for it – needing help.

Ah, yes. He’s here to show her pity, cure her (and himself, apparently), and all the while, he’s utterly convinced that he’s going to do the world a favor. "Look at me, world! I’m a hero!"

That’s the core of the film, isn’t it?

Isaac’s grandiose quest to prove that he can be the knight in shining armor by making everything worse.

And what does he do? He takes pity on Edith.

Oh, and spoiler alert, folks: it’s the worst kind of pity. The kind that looks down on you while whispering sweet nothings about how everything is going to be just fine, even though it’s completely not.

Edith (Ladina von Frisching, who is so good she might have been cast in a different movie by accident) is dealing with her own immense challenges – paralyzed after a motorcycle accident, dealing with a controlling family, and trying to make sense of a world that suddenly sees her as the disabled girl – and Isaac strolls in like, "Hey, let me fix you with my manly, I’m-not-sure-what-I’m-doing charm."

His approach? To be as cringingly un-self-aware as possible.

You know how in movies when the protagonist tries to sweep someone off their feet and it’s all cinematic and beautiful?

Yeah, Isaac does that, except instead of magic, it’s all horrible awkwardness and a sense of impending doom. He knocks Edith out of her wheelchair at one point – at a bowling alley, no less, which is probably where all life-altering decisions should be made, right?

If there's one thing I took away from this film, it’s that bowling alleys are a perfect microcosm for human failure.

And then there’s the sexual tension – or, in Isaac’s case, the sexual confusion.

He sees Edith as both his "little sister" and an opportunity to prove to her father that he’s not a failure.

It's like he’s trying to play matchmaker for someone else’s family, while forgetting to, you know, understand the woman he’s supposedly interested in.

And don't even get me started on the sex scene.

It’s like watching a deer trying to walk on ice for the first time, except you’re the deer, and also the ice, and maybe even the one with the lumbering instinct to run.

With Impatience of the Heart, Lauro Cress delivers a strong, ambitious feature debut that fearlessly drags Stefan Zweig’s 1939 novel into the 21st century — where guilt still hurts, but at least it’s beautifully lit.

Shot as his graduation film at the German Film and Television Academy Berlin and co-produced by Schiwago Film, Cress proves that “student film” can mean “existential crisis with impeccable production values.”

The film had its world premiere at the Max Ophüls Preis Film Festival, where it swept the board: Giulio Brizzi (Race for Glory: Audi vs. Lancia) and Ladina von Frisching (The Theory of Everything) both won the acting prizes, and the film itself took home the 2025 Best Movie Award —

- not bad for a class project.

Let’s talk about the film’s aesthetic.

It’s artful, folks.

The cinematography feels like it was made by someone who wanted you to feel uncomfortable just by looking at the screen.

The lighting – neon blues and harsh whites – echoes Isaac’s emotional coldness. It’s like the filmmaker is saying, "You want to root for this guy? Too bad. Look at his face. Look at that tattoo. Now feel guilty for liking him."

And it works!

The slow-moving camera feels like it’s staring at Isaac the way you would stare at an antelope caught in the headlights. It’s like the lens is waiting for him to realize, "Oh, wait, I shouldn’t have tried to solve everything with my patronizing smile."

But here’s the kicker: I felt for Isaac.

By the end of the film, I found myself half-hoping he’d get his redemption, while the other half was furiously shaking my head at his total obliviousness.

He’s the tragic hero who thinks he’s the good guy – and that’s the kind of irony that Stefan Zweig would have loved. The more Isaac tries to "fix" Edith, the more it feels like he’s trying to paper over cracks in his own fractured sense of self-worth.

It’s like watching a car crash happen in slow motion, but you can’t help but stare.

In summary, this movie is a delightful, gut-wrenching descent into a modern version of Zweig’s Beware of Pity.

Isaac’s tragic flaw is that he wants to save someone – but doesn’t have the emotional maturity to see how much harm he’s causing in the process.

If you’re into watching a guy ruin his life and a woman’s life, all while trying to be the hero, this film’s got your name written all over it.

And if you haven’t read the novel yet... well, good luck. You’ll likely walk away feeling too much sympathy for Isaac, while also questioning the very notion of pity itself.

Maybe that’s the genius of it.

Maybe the world needs more self-deprecating soldiers in muscle shirts, trying to fix the world by fumbling through it.

At least they’re trying, right?