Few debut features arrive with the confidence and emotional honesty of Megan Seely’s “Puddysticks.” Equal parts dark comedy, psychological drama, and coming-of-age story for adults, the film follows anxious video game designer Liz as she discovers a mysterious society that promises healing through childlike play—and the courage to confront long-buried trauma.

Produced by Oscar winner Alex Coco (“Anora”) alongside Seely, Alexi Pappas, and Jeremy Teicher, “Puddysticks” stars Megan Seely, Dan Bakkedahl, Mamoudou Athie, James Urbaniak, Danny Deferrari, Bethany Kay, Benjamin Norris, Eileen Grubba, Devin Druid, Arianna Ortiz, Jacob Wysocki, Josh Fadem, and Valeria Cotto.

The film has been touring independent cinemas across the country as part of The Future of Film Is Female’s Three Films, Five Cities initiative, an innovative distribution model supporting independent films by women and nonbinary filmmakers through theatrical screenings rather than sending them directly to streaming. The nationwide tour has included stops at the American Cinematheque in Los Angeles, The Roxy Cinema in New York, Nitehawk Cinema in Brooklyn, River Oaks Theatre in Houston, Whitsell Auditorium in Portland, Cleveland Cinematheque, Circle Cinema in Tulsa, Sun-Ray Cinema in Tampa, and Chicago’s Gene Siskel Film Center, among others.

Following our partner screening with The Future of Film is Female at the Gene Siskel Film Center back in July, we spoke with Seely about transforming personal experiences into comedy, assembling an exceptional ensemble cast, navigating a production interrupted by the pandemic, and why vulnerability remains at the heart of her work.

The film feels deeply personal while still being wildly funny. What inspired “Puddysticks”?

I wrote it while I was at USC in a screenwriting class. We had to write a feature, and I really miss having those kinds of deadlines.

The story came from taking all of my own traumas and anxieties and asking myself, “How can I make a story out of this? How can I reclaim some power that I felt I’d lost?” It became an amalgamation of real experiences—social anxiety, difficult jobs where I was the only woman, being bullied at summer camp, and just some of the lowest moments in my life.

The beautiful thing has been seeing people connect with the parts I was most ashamed to include. They’ll come up after screenings and tell me those were the moments that resonated most. That’s when you realize why we tell these stories.

After writing the script, did you move directly into production?

I had made my USC thesis short, “My Loyal Audience,” which played festivals and got some attention. Within a year, I was making “Puddysticks.” Everything happened very quickly—until COVID.

We had to shut production down and didn’t return for more than two years. We had shot half the movie before the pandemic and finished the rest afterward. Then came post-production, so the entire process stretched out much longer than any of us expected.

Ironically, that extra time ended up benefiting the film in some ways.

The film balances absurd comedy with genuine emotional vulnerability. Was that tonal balance something you consciously crafted?

Honestly, no. That’s just how I see the world.

I wasn’t thinking about making a dark comedy. My mom always found humor in even the darkest situations, and I grew up with that perspective. Having a sense of humor is one of the most important things in life to me.

When you’re dealing with shame, humor naturally becomes part of survival. We laughed because we had to.

You assembled an incredible cast. How did you find actors who understood that balance?

I still can’t believe the cast we ended up with. One of the unexpected gifts of the film taking so long is that so many of their careers have continued to grow.

Dan Bakkedahl came aboard after his brother-in-law saw my short film at a festival and suggested he watch it. We met, he read the script, and he immediately wanted to play Sylvester.

Valeria Cotto joined because my producer, Alex Coco, had produced “The Florida Project.” We also worked with casting director Kate Geller, who cast “Shiva Baby,” which brought in Danny Deferrari, Mamoudou Athie, James Urbaniak, Josh Fadem, Jacob Wysocki, Ben Norris, and so many wonderful actors.

I actually didn’t audition anyone. They were all offers. But I spoke with each actor beforehand, and what mattered most was making sure they understood the story wasn’t making fun of trauma. It was about treating those experiences honestly.

I also have to mention Devin Druid. I’d only ever seen him in incredibly dramatic roles like 13 Reasons Why, and he’s absolutely hilarious. It was exciting watching him show that side of himself.

Visually, the film feels incredibly intentional. How did you approach the production design and cinematography?

Because we’d already shot half the movie before the pandemic, we had a rare opportunity to study everything we’d done and think about how to build on it once production resumed.

For the “Puddysticks” world, I wanted something expansive and romantic rather than quirky. Eric Rohmer was a huge influence, as was “Call Me by Your Name”—films that feel lush and emotionally open.

The Brain Dead office had a completely different visual language. I was looking at paranoid thrillers from the ’70s like “Klute,” and films like “Coma.” Casting James Urbaniak also helped reinforce that atmosphere.

My cinematographer Brian and I were very intentional about the color palette, framing, and lighting. We also had Sean Baker collaborator Chris Hill as our gaffer, who did an incredible job—especially with the night scenes.

We only shot for 17 days, but all that unexpected prep time gave us a chance to make every day count.

The film is ultimately about vulnerability. What did you hope audiences would leave with?

I’ve always been the person who’s willing to be vulnerable first. It’s made life harder in some ways, but I’ve found that when one person opens up, it often gives everyone else permission to do the same.

That’s really what I wanted this movie to do.

I love dark comedies, but I never want to leave audiences in despair. I want people to leave feeling lighter. Liz spends the film carrying this enormous secret, and when she finally shares it, she’s confronting both her greatest fear and experiencing her greatest relief.

One of my favorite reactions came from a woman after a screening. There’s a scene where Liz talks about loving video games because even someone who can’t physically move can still feel like they’re jumping and running inside a game.

This woman told me she’d been unable to walk for nearly a year during the pandemic, and video games were exactly how she experienced movement again. That wasn’t based on a real story—it was simply something I imagined. Hearing someone tell me it reflected her own life was incredibly moving.

What’s next for you?

I’ve been acting again, which was actually my first love. I have a film called “Imaginal Disc,” directed by Amanda Kramer with the band Magdalena Bay, that premiered at Tribeca. I play about fourteen different strange characters, which was incredibly fun.

As a filmmaker, I’m writing a new feature about sex, relationships, and whether we can actually change who we’re attracted to. I’ve been working on it for a while, and I’m hoping to make it very soon.

Hopefully I’ll be back at the Gene Siskel Film Center—or maybe even the Music Box Theatre—with that film next year.

How has partnering with The Future of Film Is Female impacted the film’s release?

It’s been extraordinary.

This was a true independent film. I raised the financing myself, we shot much of it in my parents’ house in Florida, and we pieced everything together however we could.

Then Caryn Coleman and The Future of Film Is Female came on board and created this incredible theatrical tour through their Three Films, Five Cities initiative. Instead of disappearing onto a streaming platform, the film has been able to travel to independent theaters around the country and connect directly with audiences.

It’s honestly been one of the highlights of my life. Every screening has been different, and getting to have conversations with audiences—and with filmmakers I admire who have joined me for Q&As—has been incredibly rewarding.

Follow the “Puddysticks” journey here, and follow on Instagram @puddysticksmovie