Adapted by Rachel Yoder’s novel of the same name, Nightbitch is a comedy horror directed by Marielle Heller and starring Amy Adams and Scoot McNairy as it follows the trials and tribulations of a struggling stay-at-home mum (Adams).
When we first meet the mother, she sees another mother contend with two greedy kids and a woman who took over her old job at an art gallery. In a condescending conversation with fake pleasantries, the protagonist launches into a brutally honest outlook on women who sacrifice their career, looks and happiness for motherhood only to be judged by others – only to snap back to reality, setting the tone of her simmering resentment with a forced smile. As the film settles into a repetitive pattern of playtime, park outings, and reluctant mother-baby activities, the mother evidently struggles with taking care of the house and baby on her own while her husband (McNairy) works away for most of the week. But as the film goes on, she starts to experience primal emotions and the odd hair patch on her body, leading her to occasionally transform into a dog.
The supernatural element amid the woman’s account of motherhood is indeed a strange addition and in Nightbitch, it is executed with mixed results. It isn’t fully explained how and why she transforms into a dog and whether there is a reason such as a family curse or something that is associated with motherhood. Instead, it is treated as an outlet for the mother to let loose and hang with other bitches – to the point that she encourages her infant son to behave like a dog, with questionable results. In addition, this plot device allows Nightbitch (and by extension, Heller) to indulge in the horror comedy genre, showing graphic shots of six nipples across a woman’s torso and the popping of a huge lump on her back. Rather than recoil in horror, these strange instances are met with increasing curiosity only to culminate into a brief and mostly unsatisfying transformation scene that pales in comparison to the classic scene in An American Werewolf in London.
The real weapon in Nightbitch, however, is Heller’s smart and no-nonsense script, which indulges in the pressures of a stay-at-home mom while challenging the misconceptions of motherhood. Through the mother’s frank narration, her brutally insights into having grown and raising a person practically single-handed (the husband, interestingly, doesn’t see the big deal) will undoubtedly resonate with mothers everywhere yet her anger in losing her identity outside of motherhood feeds her rage – no wonder she is on the verge of running rampant. However, Heller’s screenplay pokes fun at the husband’s obliviousness to his wife’s troubles when he keeps disturbing her taking a shower or a nap and doesn’t blink twice at the fact that his wife casually mentioning she has six nipples. While the husband comments that there is a lack of communication from the mother’s side, there is an emphasis throughout Nightbitch that occasionally feels like a one-sided argument but the viewpoint of a new mother is a brutally honest perspective that needs to be told – yet Heller and Yoder’s original novel soften it through its magical realism.
In her boldest role since Arrival, Amy Adams does it all – funny, sharp and on verge of emotional breakdown. She physically embraces the role in all its shapes and her control in keeping schtum when surrounded by inane conversations is entertaining as hell, showing a multi-layered character who is ready to embraces her animal instincts. Her feral performance is a nice counterbalance to that of Scoot McNairy, whose performance as the clueless and relaxed husband brings moments of incredulous humour while reinforcing the mother’s struggles.
Nightbitch is violent, darkly funny and unapologetically honest about the ups and downs of motherhood. Serving as a homage to mothers and a platform for another killer performance from Amy Adams, Heller’s adaptation is a strong addition to her filmography.
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Director: Marielle Heller
Stars: Amy Adams, Scoot McNairy, Zoë Chao, Mary Holland, Ella Thomas, Archana Rajan, Jessica Harper
Runtime: 98 minutes
Country: USA
