THE STORY – A woman pauses her career to be a stay-at-home mom, but soon her domesticity takes a surreal turn.
THE CAST – Amy Adams, Scoot McNairy, Arleigh Patrick Snowdon, Emmett James Snowdon, Zoë Chao, Mary Holland, Archana Rajan & Jessica Harper
THE TEAM – Marielle Heller (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 98 Minutes
When Marielle Heller’s adaptation of the Rachel Yoder novel “Nightbitch” was announced, curiosity peaked around how Heller would convey the surreal story of a mom who transforms into a dog. Though, as Heller’s previous films “The Diary of a Teenage Girl,” “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,“ and “Can You Ever Forgive Me?“ can attest, she looks at the world through a nuanced, witty, and imaginative lens. Her sensibilities ground the feral energy “Nightbitch“ draws from motherhood. But, when physical canine transformations come into play, the film teases a mischievous, bizarre tone that doesn’t bite. The humanistic narrative that Heller so deftly excels at and the magic realism she attempts to explore is an awkward blend. As a result, “Nightbitch“ feels like two films in one, though Heller keeps it from going too astray by finding resonant humor, comfort, and patience in female rage. At the heart of this oddity are a woman coming to terms with how motherhood changed her and a compassionate performance by Amy Adams that brings her to life.
The film begins with a stay-at-home mom, Mother (Adams), in the daily routine of raising her toddler, Baby (Arleigh Patrick Snowden and Emmett James Snowden). Her life plays on a well-edited loop between cleaning messes, making meals, and tending to tantrums. She also squeezes in the time to carve out play dates and attend a toddlers’ group at the local library, where she finds the other mothers’ coddling behaviors bothersome. Back home, she usually holds the fort alone, as her husband, Father (Scoot McNairy), often travels for work conferences. When he returns, he slips into the comfortable expectation that even while on daddy duties, his wife will still be “on call“ to help out. In the meantime, it has been increasingly difficult for her to communicate with him about her needs. Mother decided to give up her career as an artist years ago but wished her husband had talked her out of it. Instead, he’d met her with a customary nod and smile, unaware of her true feelings.
The story meets Mother at what feels like peak exhaustion. Her urges to express truthful thoughts on uniform questions like, “Isn’t it great to be at home with your child all day?“ become harder to resist. She is changing, and not just on a psychological level. Random patches of hair grow on her skin. Her teeth become sharper. She has a heightened sense of smell and a taste for raw meat. A popped cyst reveals the early makings of a dog tail. The transformation happens so matter-of-factly, and Mother’s deeply relatable response (“This is what’s happening now”) reveals that Heller is headed someplace familiar with this concept. When life gets ridiculous, sometimes you have to laugh.
The film elicits a few laughs with canine-related details and scenarios, from woofs and growls to digging holes in the front yard. However, the film uses humor most effectively when it’s derived from how fed up Adams’s character is with keeping up appearances emotionally. The drama comes from this same place of reaching a breaking point and needing to reexamine who you are after a life-changing experience. When the expectations and pressures put on being a mother become so unrealistic, who do women become when they don’t feel defined within that idealized identity? What happens when they try to reconnect with who they once were?
When Mother searches for answers in literature, local librarian Norma (Jessica Harper) gives her a book called “A Field Guide to Magical Women.“ The text leads to interesting notes on women whose identities manifest in a mythical state, like the “Bird Women“ who grow feathers in their 60s.
This text is the precise point where the film could have expanded on the fable by going darker and weirder with the dog concept, especially considering that Mother embraces the transformation and seems eager to continue exploring it. Instead, “nightbitch“ becomes more of a reference point for Mother to explain her anger. The magic realism of it all is left alone to exist solely as a visual and metaphoric cue. The transformation elements strike a thematic chord as women’s bodies experience many unforeseen changes during pregnancy. But the concept itself goes under-explored; its bizarre tone and energy fail to blend into the insightful, grounded story that Heller is already telling.
The film works best when it focuses on Mother’s breakdown of self, when she gravitates towards the artist inside her and reexamines her identity within motherhood. Some of the most impactful moments involve intimate conversations between Mother and Father that reveal the depths of her internal conflict. A tremendous argument scene in the final act unearths Mother’s deepest and darkest emotions, which she’d buried for a long time. The artist in her, the woman her husband married, “died in childbirth.“ The scene speaks to Heller’s genius as a director and lets Adams and McNairy reach incredible heights in their work. Adams, in particular, is a tremendous gift to this film. Her performance is an endearing love letter to the bumpy journey of finding yourself again after a life-changing experience. With terrific comedic timing and ferocious energy, she deftly conveys the character’s passivity and creativity. She also encompasses all the poignant themes at play; this manifests into an especially emotional dinner scene when Mother reunites with her friends from the art world.
Looking at motherhood through an animal frame is an intriguing perspective for Heller to sink her teeth into. She finds a sweet spot between embracing mothers as superheroes who can do everything and mothers who feel they can’t do it all. Mother is both all at once and so much more. While Heller struggles to balance the visual concept with its philosophical themes, her compassionate sensibilities bring “Nightbitch“ home.
