A female-filled film disappointed, and that’s good for women.

There were high hopes for the R-rated comedy Rough Night when it opened in June. But the film received middling reviews, made little money, and was out of theatres by early July, not to be spoken of again except in unfavourable comparison to the similar female ensemble movie Girls’ Trip, which opened Friday.

The truth is that what should have been a hilarious film, showcasing the magnificent comedic talents of director Lucia Aniello and actors Ilana Glazer and Kate McKinnon, ended up being merely mediocre — a mildly entertaining diversion with nowhere near the number of laughs generated by the women on their respective television shows (Aniello produces and Glazer costars in Broad City, McKinnon is a main player on Saturday Night Live).

The irony is that Rough Night being a “so-so” movie — not fabulous and not a complete disaster — is a good sign for women in Hollywood.

Lindsay Zoladz, a staff writer for The Ringer, recently wrote a piece about director Aniello and her movie, centred on the themes of self-acceptance and being OK with imperfection. Zoladz quoted from a speech Glazer had given at a gala for a girls’ writing mentorship non-profit:

“Ladies, please do not wait until the ten-thousandth hour to put your s--t out there. Men and boys get to occupy that big, fat middle section of the bell curve, of mediocre TV shows, of meh movies, of books that are just … fine. They get to profit off this huge chunk of the industry, so why can’t you occupy some of that space before your work is absolutely prim and perfect?”

To make her point — that female filmmakers shouldn’t let the perfect film stand in the way of making the not-too-bad film — Glazer emphasized just creating something. Now.

“And make money from it along the way,” she said. “Along the way. Not just at the top. Don’t wait.”

It’s advice Aniello, Glazer, and Glazer’s Broad City costar Abbi Jacobson have all heeded, with successful careers in the entertainment industry to show for it. All three women took classes with the highly regarded Upright Citizens Brigade comedy group. When they repeatedly failed to win a coveted spot on one of the improv house teams, they went off and made their own respective web series (Glazer and Jacobson created what eventually turned into Broad City; Aniello partnered with now-boyfriend and co-screenwriter co-star of Rough Night Paul Downs on a series called Paulilu Mixtape).

They put their s--t out there, whether it was entirely ready or not, and quite publicly gained skills and made mistakes and succeeded and flopped and put out a meh movie such as Rough Night and made a living while doing so. Not to overgeneralize, but this isn’t something that comes naturally to many women.

As Jessica Bennett wrote in a 2014 Time article, “Women are more likely than men to be perfectionists, holding themselves back from answering a question, applying for a new job, asking for a raise, until they’re absolutely 100 per cent sure (they) can predict the outcome.”

That’s not the only reason that big, fat section of the entertainment bell curve is almost exclusively occupied by men. But it’s a big one.

Meanwhile, critics and audiences become used to expecting either genius from female entertainers or nothing at all. It’ll be interesting to see how those expectations change as more women charge forward with their “just fine” — funny but flawed, moving but imprecise — projects and start taking up some of the manheavy “meh” space.

Not every film directed by a woman need be a Kathryn Bigelow masterpiece to justify women directing movies. (And if you saw the original Point Break, you’ll remember that not every Kathryn Bigelow movie is a masterpiece.)

The fact that Rough Night can come and go without its weak box office and unimpressive critical showing being much remarked upon — let alone seen as a general indictment of female directors — is actually progress. Aniello made something OK and made enough money from it to make other things in the future, some of which will no doubt be much better than OK and some of which won’t.

That’s normal. And Aniello is clearly going to be happy with herself either way. “No matter what I’m gonna kiss myself on the shoulder,” she told writer Zoladz, referring to her habit of giving herself a little affectionate peck here and there to remind herself she’s good enough and doing the best she can. “No matter what they say.”

It’s the sort of self-talk many artists could do with more of, women especially.

NOT EVERY FILM DIRECTED BY A WOMAN NEED BE A KATHRYN BIGELOW MASTERPIECE.