Nightbitch (2024)
Written and Directed by Marielle Heller
Starring Amy Adams, Scoot McNairy, Arleigh Snowden, Emmett Snowden, Zoë Chao, Jessica Harper, Ella Thomas, Mary Holland, Kerry O’Malley, Adrienne Rose White, Stacey Swift, Archana Rajan, Darius De La Cruz, Kerry O’Malley, Marielle Heller, and Nate Heller.
SYNOPSIS:
A woman, consumed by the trappings of domesticity, halts her career to embrace the role of a stay-at-home mom. But soon enough, her tranquil family life spirals into a surreal whirlwind.
In a world where sanity teeters on the edge, Nightbitch emerges—a film that dares to explore the chilling descent of a mother into madness, her transformation resonating with darkly amusing undertones. Amy Adams takes on the role of “Mother,” a weary soul teetering between the mundane and the bizarre, as her very essence begins to morph into something, quite literally, animalistic. Yet, amidst the glimmers of potential brilliance, one might wonder if the film has the audacity to fully embrace its premise.
The narrative—adapted from Rachel Yoder’s novel—offers a tantalizing glimpse into the domestic chaos that threatens to fracture the psyche. As Mother’s frustrations simmer and boil over, her metamorphosis into a canine figure hints at deeper commentaries on the burdens of motherhood and the often-muffled roar against patriarchal constraints. However, one can’t shake off the feeling that Heller’s vision occasionally falters, reluctant to plunge into the necessary depths of horror or hilarity that lie just beneath the surface. The film flirts with its inherent absurdity, yet it ultimately retreats into safer waters, where its characters remain frustratingly shallow, drifting in and out of roles dictated by the demands of the storyline rather than any genuine development.
The crux of the narrative revolves around the fraught relationship between Mother and her clueless husband (portrayed by Scoot McNairy), whose obliviousness serves as a comedic foil yet drags the film into predictable territory as it ambles toward an underwhelming climax. The interactions, rife with frustration, pursuit of normalcy, and surreal moments—like the introduction of unexpected fur spots—should feel electric but often fizzle out instead. Rather than a haunting exploration of identity loss, we find ourselves meandering through a family drama densely packed with metaphorical weight—none of which lands with the impact it desperately strives for.
Adams delivers a commendable performance, capturing the exhaustion and dry humor inherent in her character’s nuanced chaos while bouncing effortlessly in tender moments with her young co-stars. Their artistic painting scenes are a bittersweet reminder of what’s at stake, cozy yet chaotic, a flicker of the warmth she yearns to preserve even as the madness encroaches. Yet ultimately, in its third act, Nightbitch skews toward tedium, choosing abstract reflections over riveting revelations, to the detriment of its initial allure—leaving audiences scratching their heads, wondering just how a film about a mother becoming a dog becomes such a pedestrian narrative about familial discord.
Will Nightbitch ignite a fire of recognition in those navigating the labyrinth of motherhood? Or does it simply bark up the wrong tree, missing an opportunity to reflect the wild, untamed spirit of women breaking free from their cages? One can only ponder as the credits roll, amidst a blend of enchantment and disappointment.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★; Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor.
