Nightbitch (2024, dir. Marielle Heller)

by Jack Martin | Dec 3, 2024

Certificate: 15

Running Time: 99 mins

UK Distributor: Searchlight Pictures

UK Release Date: 6 December 2024

WHO’S IN NIGHTBITCH?

Amy Adams, Scoot McNairy, Arleigh Snowden, Emmett Snowden, Zoë Chao, Mary Holland, Ella Thomas, Archana Rajan, Jessica Harper, Adrienne Rose White, Roslyn Gentle, Stacey Swift, Darius De La Cruz

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Marielle Heller (director, writer, producer), Amy Adams, Anne Carey, Sue Naegle, Stacy O’Neill and Christina Oh (producers), Nate Heller (composer), Brandon Trost (cinematographer), Anne McCabe (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

An overworked mother (Adams) finds herself transforming into a dog…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON NIGHTBITCH?

[This is a slightly re-edited version of our review for Nightbitch from its showing at the BFI London Film Festival]

Amy Adams belongs to an exclusive, but not necessarily sought-after, collective of actors who have received a fair handful of Oscar nominations but have yet to win even one. As of writing, Adams is tied with both the late Deborah Kerr and the even later Thelma Ritter with six nominations but no win (Glenn Close currently eclipses them all with eight), prompting many fans of hers to wonder what exactly she has to do in order to win favour with the Academy.

As it transpires, all she perhaps needed was to take on the role of an overworked mother that is slowly turning into a dog. Sure, it’s perhaps a bit out-there for the prestigious Academy – but then again, they only recently gave an Oscar to Jamie Lee Curtis for a role where she plays the piano with her feet whilst having hot dogs for fingers – but Adams firmly commits to every last second of writer-director Marielle Heller’s unusual comedy-drama Nightbitch, and that commitment in and of itself might just get her the closest she’ll yet come to waltzing up to the Dolby Theatre stage.

Adams plays an unnamed woman who is beyond overwhelmed by her unsavoury new role as a stay-at-home mother to her very young son. Formerly an artist, she’s left to endure her toddler’s tantrums and keep to his busy schedule while her similarly nameless husband (Scoot McNairy) is constantly away on work trips, although even when he is around, he’s about as useful as a nappy made of store-brand tissues. As she struggles with the weight of her thrust-upon motherly responsibilities, she begins noticing some odd changes to her body: she is starting to sprout some fur, a cyst around the rear generates what appears to be a tail, and she keeps having vivid dreams of joining a pack of wild dogs at night and roaming about on all four legs without a care in the world.

It is honestly irrelevant as to whether she’s actually going through such a bizarre magical-realist transformation or simply buckling under the weight of her human stresses, because at its core Nightbitch is much more of a rallying cry for mothers who may have similarly been taken too much for granted. The film genuinely works in moments where Adams and other characters vent their inner frustrations with not just their motherly responsibilities but being relegated to the stereotypical “mother” role that their canine alter egos allow a much-needed escape from. Heller, an exceptionally talented writer and director (this being the first film since her 2015 debut The Diary of a Teenage Girl where she’s been credited as both), leans heavily into such talking points that are clearly personal to her, especially being a mother of young children herself, and more often than not she carries a strong sense of truth and experience here that can easily be recognised and even celebrated by many others in the same position as Adams is throughout most of the film.

Speaking of the actor, her extraordinary gameness for such a physically and psychologically demanding role is completely fascinating, as you certainly feel how burnt-out she is in earlier scenes where she has to keep her innocent tot under control, but then when her animal instincts take over it practically becomes performance art as she barks, scratches, and crawls to her inner dog’s content. Had it been played in any way wrong, this would be a laughably embarrassing piece of acting that would seem destined for late-night riff-a-thons among stoned college students, but Adams really does bring a lot of soul and depth to the role, easily carrying the film with a genuinely strong turn that allows itself to be more than just the odd dog trick now and then.

However, Nightbitch can’t quite settle for an appropriate enough tone for it to wholly work. Aesthetically, the film looks and feels like a Judd Apatow comedy, from the brightly-lit sets to editing that suggests a lot of improvised material was removed (funnily enough, the film’s cinematographer Brandon Trost has worked on a lot of Apatow-produced movies). However, as the film adopts more mature themes as it goes along, there’s nothing in the filmmaking that truly reflects the more dramatic turns that it takes, which can make you feel a little confused as to how exactly you’re meant to be emotionally reacting to certain heavy developments. It is also jarring to have outwardly comedic scenes of Adams fully embracing her inner dog be followed almost immediately by tense spousal arguments straight out of something like A Woman Under the Influence, which only further confuses the kind of feeling you’re meant to get from this film.

Almost too appropriately, for a film about a woman turning into a canine, Nightbitch often comes across a bit too much like a shaggy-dog story in its ultimate execution. But when it works, especially thanks to Amy Adams’ deeply committed lead turn, it is a daft but fascinating comedy that might leave you howling.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Nightbitch is a bizarre but oddly endearing ode to motherhood, one that’s led by an exceptionally committed turn by Amy Adams, but ultimately is too confused about its own tone for it to fully scratch its itches.