One of the essential movies of my coming of age was Dirty Dancing, a film that doesn’t first come to mind as Jewish — it has such broad appeal — but on second thought, it is the ultimate Jewish movie. It has a strong Jewish heroine, set within a Jewish world, acting upon her Jewish values (equality, questioning of authority and courage). It’s also an incredibly joyful watch, full of all those healthy sensations that make blood rush through our bodies a little faster: sexual desire, music, humor, risk-taking — the sort of movie that makes you feel more alive when you see it.

In contrast, the stories we first think of as Jewish tend to fall into one of two categories: neurotic Jewish comedies or trauma-based pieces. As for the latter, they are most often centered on or set against the backdrop of the Holocaust — films like Schindler’s List, Europa Europa and The Brutalist. We have excelled at telling these stories, and they are immensely important — as a testament to our resilience and as cautionary tales. We need to keep making them. But stories of loss are only part of who we are as a people.

When it comes to comedies, creators like Larry David, Amy Sherman-Palladino and Natasha Lyonne have created wonderfully layered Jewish characters that reinvent the neurotic type. Other examples include Girls, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and most early films by Woody Allen. The neurotic Jew is a real thing, and these works explore it with nuance and depth. That said, there are few examples of Jewish comedic characters that go beyond neurotic — and in lesser hands, they can fall into stereotypes. Just as Jewish drama is often a reflection of historical pain, our comedy tends to channel anxiety.

The suggestion I want to make is that now is a time that we need to make space for more Jewish joy onscreen — films and TV rooted in authentic Jewish culture, ethics and experiences that show Jewish lives as multifaceted and exciting. In addition to our stories of trauma and neurosis, we need to express that Jewish life can be joyful. In the Emmy-nominated Netflix comedy Nobody Wants This, there is a beautiful moment when the Rabbi Noah character (Adam Brody) performs the Shabbat rituals of Kiddush and Ha’motzi in a bar for his non-Jewish love interest (Kristen Bell). It’s modern and spiritual, rooted in our history and brimming with energy. The scene makes a religious Jewish world relatable and expands Jewish identity beyond suffering and anxiety. More moments like this on the screen, please.

Older work like Keeping the Faith, Crossing Delancey and, of course, Dirty Dancing are classic examples of Jewish joy onscreen — full of humor, passion and belief in love without cynicism.

In the past two years, being Jewish has become more challenging. With rising antisemitism — such as the recent attacks at the Capital Jewish Museum and in Boulder, Colorado, and the horrors of both the Oct. 7 attack and the heartbreaking war and famine in Gaza — our world is in turmoil. And Jewish identity feels much more complicated. As a Jewish parent, I’ve always wanted my kids to have grounded, supported Jewish identities. Yet in many Jewish families, there are such divergent opinions on Israel these days that many members cannot even converse with one another. Wherever you fall on the political spectrum, it is not easy to be a Jew at this moment. It’s not easy to be a human being with a conscience, period. There’s a strong argument for despair. But joy is an antidote. And stories rooted in joy sustain and connect us.

I recently directed a film, The Floaters, a Jewish summer camp comedy that is full of that bright, awkward, tender, sexually charged energy of youth — and celebrates Jewish identity in its many different forms. We cast all our Jewish characters with Jewish actors, which is not common, and our cast is diverse, because Jews are not homogenous. The characters in our film come from different backgrounds, have conflicting relationships with Judaism and yet, amid the antics of summer, they connect. The film asks how can community nurture strong individuals, and can a community of divergent individuals still manage to hold together? There is joy in offering an expansive sense of what it means to be a Jew.

It’s time for a new wave of Jewish stories onscreen, to shift the balance to stories of joy. It’s not about ignoring anxiety and suffering or avoiding hard subjects, it’s just saying, “Yes, and.” Without balancing out our stories of loss like this, we risk teaching a generation that Jewishness equals pain. And without showcasing an array of different types of Jewish characters, we limit how the world sees us and how we see ourselves.

We need films that wrestle with the past, tread into the murky present and help us process trauma.

We also need stories that are sexy, funny, dangerous and life-affirming to propel us forward.

Rachel Israel is a writer and director whose 2017 film Keep the Change, about a romance between two neuro-atypical adults, won best narrative feature at the Tribeca Film Festival, and was a New York Times Critic’s Pick. Her new movie is The Floaters.

This story first appeared in an August stand-alone issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.