Amy Schumer’s brand has always been about being real and, of course, being relatable AF.

The hallmarks of this can be seen and heard during any given talk-show interview in which she shares a self-deprecating story about her love life or a sly anecdote that doubles as skewering commentary on one of the many women’s issues her Comedy Central show already satirizes in sketch form (particularly pop culture’s frustrating double standards).

That’s why the broad but fairly enjoyable I Feel Pretty feels right in her wheelhouse (as opposed to last year’s misfire, Snatched). Schumer plays Renee, a New York City single gal with low self-esteem who gets knocked out during an awkward SoulCycle class, only to wake up with a skewed vision of herself; she thinks she’s the most beautiful and capable woman on Earth. (Blame this psychological short-circuit on a wish made during a thunderstorm after being inspired by a late-night viewing of Big.)

Written and directed by Marc Silverstein and Abby Kohn, Pretty manages to walk Renee along the fine line between confidence and cockiness as she takes charge of her life with this new outlook. She struts up to the heads of Lily LeClaire, a cosmetics brand, and asserts herself to be the face of the company…as a receptionist (this is after working in a Chinatown basement as their web support). She encourages her gal pals (Aidy Bryant and Busy Philipps) to give their online dating profiles a boost. And she takes a random encounter at the dry cleaners and turns it into a flirting match with Those Who Can’t‘s Rory Scovel.

Whereas 2015’s Trainwreck gave Schumer Bill Hader as a love interest, Pretty pairs her with the lesser-known Scovel, who fits the role of Ethan like a comfy, cuddly Henley tee. He’s a sensitive nerd who, as it turns out, is just as insecure as the old Renee. (See, ladies? Men can have body image issues too!)

And while Schumer’s supporting cast consists of a caravan of familiar, friendly faces (Tom Hopper as requisite eye candy, and hello, Lauren Hutton!), no one stands out more so than Michelle Williams as Avery, the squeaky-voiced CEO-heiress of the LeClaire cosmetics empire — imagine a millennial Marilyn Monroe with an extra dose of helium. The moment she opens her mouth is a delightful surprise, probably because we’ve never seen the four-time Oscar nominee have fun playing it up like this. She makes Avery fun to watch as an underestimated bobblehead struggling to keep her business afloat. And therein lies the film’s point: even red-hot people get the blues!

Pretty‘s inherent message about body positivity and loving oneself — flaws and all — is certainly a much-needed one in today’s beauty-saturated climate. That said, one can’t help but wonder if Schumer, who was once attached to a big-screen adaptation of Barbie, gave up that similarly-themed project for this fluffy vehicle. Either way, those themes are quickly run into the ground here, especially when the film launches into an obligatory Big Speech in the third act that can be seen from a mile away. For a story that seems halfway fresh, its execution comes off a little, well, basic.

6 / 10