‘Nightbitch’ review: All bark and no bite

Amy Adams is solid in director Marielle Heller’s otherwise frustrating feminist fable Nightbitch.

There is no rage like female rage. Fueled by oppression and patriarchy, that anger builds and builds until it explodes like a volcano. With Roe v Wade overturned, no-fault divorces threatened, and partners not pulling their weight in child-rearing, it’s no wonder why women are pissed. In Marielle Heller’s Nightbitch, that wrath takes on a furry facade, and while it doesn’t take big enough swings, its feminist commentary is enough to make any woman’s fists clench.

Amy Adams plays “The Mother”—a nameless presence who seems only to exist to care for her son. Between juggling “Book Babies” and countless mac-n-cheese dinners, she also has to deal with her clueless husband (Scoot McNairy), who doesn’t even know how to put his own son to bed. As stress and loneliness turn into full-on hatred, Mother starts to develop random hairs on her body and an insatiable desire to eat without utensils. And when it becomes too much to handle, she transforms into a dog and releases the animal buried deep inside. 

A tepid adapation.

Adapted from Rachel Yoder’s book of the same name, Nightbitch had all the ingredients to be a Kafka-esque nightmare, but Heller’s take is disappointingly bland. It’s clear that Heller had a vision to focus primarily on Mother’s internal struggles, but in a film about embracing your inner “bitch,” there was very little “bitch” to be seen. It didn’t necessarily have to be a Cronenberg body horror-palooza (though it really should have,) but it needed to be more uncomfortable. As it was, everything was very sanitized and formulaic, especially the dialogue, which felt about as radical as a Facebook meme on International Women’s Day. 

Adams spouts countless lines about the difficulties of motherhood and how women can’t make any mistakes. It’s reminiscent of America Ferrera’s speech in last year’s Barbie, in that while everything said was correct, it was too on the nose and doesn’t dive below the surface. There needed to be more anger, more pain, and more exploration of women’s trauma beyond a Feminism 101 college class. 

For example, there’s a moment when Mother recalls her childhood in a very religious community and how her own mother repressed her sadness. It’s poignant and seemingly a big character point for Mother, but it’s barely touched on except in a couple of flashbacks. Religion and generational trauma can be huge triggers for women, and it’s surprising that Heller never brings this into the present day, considering that it’s notoriously difficult to leave those types of settings. 

The bottom line.

For most, Nightbitch will be just fine. However, those looking for a deeper take on women’s anger will be disappointed. Adams is watchable, but the lack of style and substance keeps her from being great. It’s similar to Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield in this year’s We Live in Time—great actors taking part in films that don’t know how to use them. Let’s hope Adams works with an Eggers or a Fargeat and gets the insanity spiral she deserves. 

Nightbitch is now playing in theaters everywhere. You can watch the trailer here.

Images courtesy of Searchlight Pictures. You can read more articles by Yasmin Kleinbart here.