In I WANT TO FEEL FUN, Jessica Sanders delivers something refreshingly rare in comedy: a short film that embraces the chaotic absurdity of womanhood with improvisational flair and unapologetic emotional depth. A blend of comedy, longing, and quiet yearning wrapped in a Nicki Minaj shower curtain, this Tribeca short isn’t just funny—it’s viscerally felt.
The film follows Esther Povitsky—playing a version of herself—as she stumbles through a night of almost-romance, awkward family entanglements, and thwarted pop-fandom, all while trying to get into a Nicki Minaj concert. It’s an absurd premise with a deceptively grounded heart. At its core, I WANT TO FEEL FUN is about connection—sexual, familial, digital, parasocial—and how women seek joy in a world that constantly short-circuits their desires.
Sanders, drawing on her documentary roots, gives the film a messy, vérité charm. There’s no polished veneer here—just raw, improvised interactions that feel both heightened and honest. The film doesn’t try to solve or summarize the female experience; it simply lets it unfold, unscripted and unfiltered. That in itself is radical storytelling.

This is a woman’s world, but it’s not one flattened by tropes. Esther’s neurotic charm, Vivian Bang’s grounded sarcasm, and the emotionally tone-deaf men circling them (played hilariously by Simon Rex and Avi Rothman) create a constellation of characters whose dysfunctions are deeply familiar. The comedy is born not from “women being messy,” but from women navigating a world where emotional literacy is scarce and sincerity is a risk.
Importantly, I WANT TO FEEL FUN doesn’t frame femininity through tidy narrative arcs. Instead, it leans into uncertainty—emotional ellipses, false starts, and offbeat desires. The film’s female perspective isn’t a garnish; it’s the engine. That’s what sets Sanders apart—she doesn’t just insert women into stories, she builds stories around how women actually move through the world.
In a landscape still too saturated with male coming-of-age tales, Sanders gives us something better: a coming-into-color story. It’s about wanting more, asking awkwardly for it, and maybe never quite getting it—but laughing (and maybe crying) anyway.
Verdict: Funny, strange, and distinctly feminine, I WANT TO FEEL FUN is a vivid celebration of modern womanhood—messy, earnest, and finally seen.
Rating: 9/10
