Nightbitch

Marielle Heller's Nightbitch is a film that wears its metaphor on its sleeve, adapting Rachel Yoder's novel into an intimate, surreal meditation on the anxieties of motherhood. Amy Adams delivers a deeply committed performance, portraying a woman slowly morphing-psychologically and perhaps physically-into something wild. The film is honest, heartfelt, and full of intriguing ideas, but it never quite harnesses its own potential into something truly lasting.

At its best, Nightbitch captures the quiet desperation of a woman whose identity is dissolving into the routines of child-rearing. The film doesn't shy away from the frustration, isolation, and even the bodily transformation that can come with motherhood. The central premise-Adams' character believing she is turning into a dog-feels like a perfect vehicle for exploring these themes. The problem is that the film introduces a range of interesting ideas but rarely commits to them. It flirts with horror, dark comedy, and psychological drama, yet never fully sinks its teeth into any of them.

Visually, the film plays with an unsettling, dreamlike atmosphere, and the sound design heightens the tension in subtle ways. The moments where Nightbitch leans into its body horror elements are effective, but they feel restrained-almost as if the film is afraid to follow through on its own premise. Instead, it settles into a more symbolic and introspective tone, which works emotionally but leaves some of its most compelling aspects underexplored.

Amy Adams is undeniably the film's strongest asset. Her performance is raw and vulnerable, grounding the surreal elements in something deeply human. However, the narrative around her remains somewhat scattered. There's a sense that the film wants to say something profound about identity, femininity, and transformation, but it never fully lands on a clear or resonant thesis.

In the end, Nightbitch is a film that lingers in the mind but doesn't quite leave a lasting mark. It's compelling in moments, frustrating in others-always interesting, but rarely as sharp as it could be. It's worth watching for Adams' performance and its unique take on motherhood, but it ultimately feels like a howl that never reaches a full roar.

What happened to my wife?" (Father). "She died in childbirth!" (Mother)

Nightbitch is the Swiss Army knife of motherhood psychoanalysis. The joys and sorrows of leaving a profession as an artist to raise a child are in full display as Mother (Amy Adams) eventually sees the downside of motherhood while clueless Father (Scoot McNairy) goes off to work several days in a row most times.

The reality of a job that pays nothing and leaves her sleepless while former colleagues prosper happily merges into Mother's fantasy (?) of becoming a dog. The feral aspect of this motif is handled deftly by writer-director Marielle Heller so that the film is much less horror than the title suggests. Any woman in middle-age, even with an aging parent to tend rather than a child, can identify with the contradictory emotions emerging regularly.

Nightbitch shows that even the all-consuming love of the caregiver is not enough to stem the resentment that can eat away at her happiness. When Mother scrapes the floor for food like a hungry dog, the point is well taken about the primitive nature of survival.

Mostly the loss of one's calling, in Mother's case as an artist, seems the greatest cut of all. But, then, our society has not yet fully embraced the idea of retaining or returning to one's gift during or after child-rearing. At one point, Father admits to never having thought about the necessity of tending to Mother's talent beyond nurturing.

To give dad his due, he was blindsided by her wish to leave her profession, never having been trained to explore motivations more fully. Nightbitch skirts analysis of Father's role probably because it would compromise the attention to the film's core subject-Motherhood. While the film is part deconstruction of the role and bodily horror (try to watch her discover a tale protruding from her backside!), it surprisingly exposes the many sides of parenthood through common sense, little horror, and some magic realism.

Amy Adams should be Oscar-nominated for the 9th time. She's that good and may win this time. As for the audience, the trip home should be full of discourse about the complicated jobs of parents and, by extension, caregivers. It can be a "bitch" and the grandest calling of all.

This film made me feel a lot of feels and I'm not even a mother, so I can't imagine how much it's going to mean to people who are.

Obviously Amy Adams is a force, and in addition the directing and cinematography is really beautiful. And pleasantly surprised by a few metaphysical and witchy vibes.

Interesting trend recently with this movie, and Your Monster, where a strange thing is happening as an allegory for female rage and repressed feelings. It's both empowering, but also kind of depressing. I hope ultimately it instills in more women to NEVER DIM YOURSELF, TELL PEOPLE WHO DESERVE IT TO F OFF, and "Insist on your joy" ♥

Adams is incredible in this role. It's different and some might find the metaphors frustrating. But the film has a strong point of view which mom's identify. There are some comedic moments but the film is not a comedy. As the story unfolds, some viewers may want to bail. But stick with it. It surprises and moves. But I'm a huge Adams fan so the powerful, meaningful and at times harrowing performance alone is worth the watch. The director takes chances and she should be recognized for taking on such a sensitive subject. It's rare look at the sacrifices of motherhood told in a unique, creative way with outstanding performances.

In 2021, Rachel Yoder's debut novel 'Nightbitch' was released, to critical acclaim. Partly-autobiographical, the surreal story was described by The Guardian's Lara Feigel as being "an important contribution to the engagement with motherhood that rightly dominates contemporary feminism." Slate's Rebecca Onion, while acknowledging some of the story's faults, noted that "as a meditation on the radical evolution parenthood demands, it's perfect."

With such overwhelming praise, it was only natural that a film adaptation should follow. Written and directed by Marielle Heller, 'Nightbitch' follows a mother (known only as Mother) whose life has changed drastically after the birth of her son (known as Son). She used to be an artist of some renown, but now is a stay-at-home-mum. Her husband (guess what he's known as) travels frequently for work, leaving her to navigate the overwhelming demands of parenthood alone. As the pressures of her new life mount, something strange occurs: Mother believes she is turning into a dog.

On paper, it sounds like a darkly comic, Kafkaesque exploration of identity, motherhood and the primal instincts that lie beneath our civilized facades. However, Heller never allows the story run wild, holding back the leash, as it were. Although there are some comedic, inspired lines of dialogue, and perceptive moments- particularly during Mother's interactions with her group of fellow mothers- there is also quite a bit of pretension, from stilted, preachy monologues to the central character's names- or lack of them.

Additionally, the film doesn't add significantly to the discourse, leaving one out in the cold in the kennel. Heller's examination of female rage and the primal instincts of motherhood, while central to the narrative, don't feel profound or original. The film treads familiar ground without offering new insights or perspectives. Instead of delving deeper into the complexities of its themes, it skims the surface. The story's potential brilliance is diluted by Heller's reluctance to fully embrace the wildness of its premise.

In contrast, Coralie Fargeat's 'The Substance' demonstrated how feminist body horror can be both profound and innovative. While different in style and narrative approach, 'The Substance' similarly explores themes of female identity and bodily transformation, but does so with a raw intensity and originality that 'Nightbitch' sorely lacks. Fargeat's film doesn't shy away from pushing boundaries, providing a visceral, wildly entertaining and thought-provoking experience.

Heller's is simply not in the same league. However, while 'Nightbitch' may fall short of its potential, it is not without merit. It provides a platform for discussing the often-taboo topics of maternal frustration and identity loss, even if it doesn't capitalize on these themes. The film's attempt to balance dark humour with existential dread is ambitious, and although it doesn't really succeed, it does contain moments of genuine insight and resonance.

Moreover, from a technical standpoint, there are elements deserving of praise. Brandon Trost's cinematography is striking, while the score is generally stirring. In addition, Anne McCabe's editing is terrific at generating momentum, while emphasising the banality of Mother's day-to-day life. In addition, the make-up and effects- though not used to the same extent (or to the same effect) as in 'The Substance'- are commendable; if underused.

Furthermore, Amy Adams delivers a powerful lead performance. A consistently accomplished actress, she brings a nuanced blend of vulnerability and ferocity to the role of Mother. Her ability to convey the emotional turmoil of the character is a highlight, making even the film's weaker moments more engaging and impactful. The whole film, in fact, only works because of her; she carries it completely.

Scoot McNairy does typically fine work as Husband, elevating the underwritten part and making him compelling, despite his faults, while twin brothers Emmett and Arleigh Snowden, in their first credited roles as Son, cannot be faulted. Moreover, the great Jessica Harper is criminally underused as a mysterious librarian, stealing the too-few scenes she's in.

In conclusion, Marielle Heller's 'Nightbitch' is a bit of a shaggy-dog story. While it doesn't realize the wild potential of its source material, it contains brief moments of profundity and emotional resonance, and features a terrific central performance from Amy Adams. Boasting fine cinematography, as well as a stirring score, and cannily edited by Anne McCabe, it is worth a watch for fans of Rachel Yoder's novel, even if it will leave one howling for more.