Despite the fact that the recently released trailer made Nightbitch look more like a quirky comedy – think a female-drive, R-rated take on Tim Allen’s The Shaggy Dog – I can attest that Marielle Heller‘s take on Rachel Yoder‘s seemingly unadaptable 2021 novel of the same name is far from the laughable ridiculousness some may expect. It’s quirky, yes, and a film about a woman turning into a dog has a layer of ridiculousness built in, but this is truly a meditation on motherhood, isolation and female rage, driven at the helm by a fearless Amy Adams.
And despite its horrific elements, Nightbitch is also far from the disturbing genre experience that some other critics out of TIFF (where this film had its world premiere) were waxing lyrical about. After something like The Substance, almost anything will pale in comparison, and though there may be a few light squeamish moments – Adams’ unnamed character (she’s simply credited as “Mother”) sprouts a tail out of an enlarged cyst on her body at one point, whilst another shot of menstrual blood evoked an audible reaction – it’s nothing a genre fan can’t handle. The true horrors of Nightbitch lay within the pressure of parenthood, and what that can do to someone’s psyche as a result of not feeling supported.
The choice to keep Mother unnamed also seems like quite a pointed commentary from Yoder and Heller, and why she starts to develop dog-like abilities stems from the monotonous routine of her life. Once an artist, Mother quit her job to take care of her son (an adorable double act between twins Arleigh Patrick Snowden and Emmett James Snowden), and in between seeing her husband (Scoot McNairy) on the days that he isn’t away working, her main social interactions come from the kindly librarian (Jessica Harper) at the local library where Mother begrudgingly takes her son for playtime.
It’s also here that she meets Jen (Zoe Chao), Miriam (Mary Holland) and Liz (Archana Rajan), a trio of working mothers who, on the surface, appear to have it more together – I mean, they even get character names – but, as Mother starts to realise, are also dealing with their own shame and insecurities. By the time Mother starts to feel a little more free in her own self, she has expressed signs of canine-like aesthetics. She comments on how her sense of smell has heightened, she has started sprouting hair on her back (“Mommy fuzzy”, as her son notes during playtime), and even extra nipples down her chest. There’s nothing remotely subtle about what Heller is trying to say here, but in being quite explicit with such, the film feels all the more liberating as it highlights the un-glamourous side of motherhood; I can only imagine how relatable this will feel to, particularly, mothers in the audience.
Quite ironically, as much as the film feels as if it’s going to generate conversation around the fact that Amy Adams is playing a character turning into a dog and what type of vanity-free physicality that comes with that – it really can’t be stressed enough how glorious she is in the role, doing so much with the smallest of looks, and crafting someone incredibly grounded in such an elevated environment – Nightbitch is far deeper than that. This is quite the human experience. A film that is sure to help audiences reflect on their own self worth and identity, and, parent or not, Mother’s journey into tapping into certain primal urges and how that can benefit your well-being proves universal.
FOUR STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Nightbitch is screening as part of this year’s Toronto International Film Festival, running between September 5th and 15th, 2024. For more information about the festival, head to the official site here.
