Film Review – Nightbitch

Nightbitch
This might come as news to some of you: Being a parent is hard. The lack of sleep, having a baby or toddler that will not listen to you, the constant stress of making sure they are fed, safe, and entertained, the never-ending barrage of cleaning, and the worry that everything you’re doing is wrong are just a few of the anxieties running through a parent’s head. These factors are only amplified for mothers, who must also deal with the unfair social expectations of being a homemaker, supportive partner, and the heart and soul of the family. They must do all this while putting on a guise of stability and happiness to the outside world. When one becomes a parent, their entire life is turned inside out and upside down – it’s enough for a person to go crazy.
That is what writer/director Marielle Heller attempts to investigate with Nightbitch (2024). Taking a surreal approach, Heller (adapting Rachel Yoder’s novel) examines the physical and mental torment of a stay-at-home mom. She wants to do right by her child and husband but finds domesticity a bigger struggle then she anticipated. To add on top of the pile are the upcoming signs of menopause. The pressures of home life and her rapidly changing body creates a mental state in which our protagonist starts to imagine that they are in a metamorphosis. That is where the fantastical element comes into play. The big hook of the narrative is that the central character – feeling lost in the chaos of being a parent – starts imagining themselves changing into a dog.

Now, I can’t speak on what it’s like to be a mother, but I can speak on what it’s like to be a parent. The daily battles with your kid just to get them in bed at a decent time, eat the right foods, not hurt themselves, or to simply be granted a little bit of time to oneself, etc. – I can understand that aspect because I am living through it at this very moment. There are certain scenes and situations that feel true to life. Where Heller’s narrative loses me is in its central metaphor. This is one of those occasions where I can agree with a film’s themes, but not its execution. Taking the inner frustrations and anger a woman feels as a parent/spouse and likening it to a dog breaking out of its shell plays out a little too obviously. The comparison is heavy handed. The writing comes up with easy solutions to problems that are anything but simple. It’s all a little too neat and tidy. The film wears its messaging so blatantly on its sleeve that I was surprised there wasn’t a moment a character yells out, “I am woman, hear me roar!”
Even more egregious is that Amy Adams’ skills are wasted here. Adams is the kind of actor whose commitment to roles knows no limit. However, her recent projects – such as Dear Evan Hansen (2021), Hillbilly Elegy (2020), and Disenchanted (2022) to name a few – feel well below her abilities. Sadly, Nightbitch is a continuation of that trend. There are instances where her performance comes shining through – where we can sense her character (credited as “Mother”) going through an emotional crisis with the slightest facial expression. A passive aggressive comment towards her “Husband” (Scoot McNairy) reveals more about her true feelings than she wants to let on. However, these examples are juxtaposed with scenes of her “transforming” into a more canine-like state of being. I admire Adams’ willingness to dive into a character, but seeing her bark out loud, run around her front yard on all fours while sniffing the grass, or snatching food out of someone’s hand and eating it like a feral animal all come across as awkward and silly.
This imbalance of good and bad is seen again with the direction and editing. The opening montage successfully translates the daily routines of parenthood, quickly cutting between cooking, eating, playing, walking to the park, trips to the library, reading, and bedtime. The images come quick and in a hurry, showing us the repetitive grind of each day. The mother clearly misses her life as an artist and resents the fact that her husband can escape to work trips for a whole week. We see that strain building up after each subsequent montage. Sadly, this approach does not hold up as well during the mother’s internal monologues. Often, her character will break reality right in the middle of a scene to give a long, drawn-out speech about the joys and annoyances of her kid, her husband, her friends, and life in general. These happen so often that they act as speed bumps to the flow of the story. None of these sequences provide information we couldn’t have already gathered just by watching the character’s behavior. It’s as though the narrative wants to hammer the point into our heads.

The biggest misstep of Nightbitch is that it does not lean far enough into its bizarre premise. Parenthood – or more accurately, motherhood – is complex and difficult to manage. We get that the main character’s transformation into a dog is representative of that idea, but it doesn’t go far enough. The film doesn’t play like a traditional comedy/drama, but it’s not surreal enough for us to dig into and explore. It presents a problem for its characters and then resolves it, basically arguing that parenthood is a matter of time, communication, and compromise. There isn’t much for us to contemplate or interpret. Compare this to David Lynch’s Eraserhead (1977), which was also a surreal take on the fear of domesticity. One provides endless room for debate and analysis, where the other presents all its themes on the surface.
Obviously, Nightbitch has a lot to say. That is not a bad thing. In fact, I agree with just about everything it has to say about gender dynamics, raising a child, maintaining a family, and keeping one’s individuality. The problem is that it feels like it is lecturing us instead of letting the story breathe. The topics don’t emerge from the material organically. It pushes us to its desired destination instead of letting us get there on our own.