52 Films by Women Vol 8. 47. Nightbitch (Director: Marielle Heller)


Pictured: Mom (Amy Adams) makes some canine friends in the black comedy, 'Nightbitch', adapted from Rachel Yoder's novel by writer-director Marielle Heller. Still courtesy of London Film Festival (UK) / Searchlight Pictures (UK, US)

Director Marielle Heller cannot be accused of making the same movie twice. Nightbitch, which she adapted from the novel by Rachel Yoder, features Amy Adams as an unnamed stay-at-home mother of a two-year-old boy – let us call her Mom - who we watch mentally collapse. It is as different from Can You Ever Forgive Me as it is from A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood. Nightbitch is highly-stylised, containing thoughts that are never spoken – Mom telling other women what she really thinks about the sacrifice she has made while her personality is systematically obliterated. It also features Mom attracting dogs and then imagining that she is one herself. The comedy is rooted in real experience. Appreciative guffaws of recognition filled the screening I attended.

Nightbitch is a mental health film without an obvious saviour figure. It features Jessica Harper (from Suspiria) as a librarian who gives Mom a book about identifying with animals by Wendy Wasserstein, better known as a playwright; I have no idea whether the book exists, but the film has a lot of unreliable sequences, even a bathroom scene in which Mom finds six pairs of dog teats on her chest. Her mind plays tricks.

The heart of her problem is sleep-deprivation; that and being left alone with a handsome blond, semi-articulate child (played by twins Arleigh Patrick Snowden and Emmett James Snowden) who is demanding. ‘At some point, your child will pee into your face,’ Mom explains. The boy isn’t especially difficult, though he utters a rude word during song time at a local library. The sing-along leader (Nate Heller, also the film’s composer and the director’s brother) isn’t especially pleased.

In an early scene, Mom takes her son shopping. When she observes another mother struggling with two young children as they reach for food items on the shelf, she is relieved for herself. However, when she meets a woman she recognises, she refers to her as the woman who took her job, seething with resentment. When asked whether she is enjoying motherhood – as if it were a salad – she expresses her exhaustion. Only she doesn’t. Heller shows us what Mom wants to say, followed by her actual reply.

Many films that set up a problem in the first act tend to explore the possible solution in the middle. By contrast, Nightbitch goes deeper into Mom’s psychosis, setting up her larger shift in self-perception. She has given up her career - a job at a gallery - and her own work as an artist to raise her son, or rather tend it to him. For a long stretch in the film, she is on her own. Her husband (Scoot McNairy) pops up around a fifth of the way through. He has a job that keeps him away from home. His complaint about his working pattern rings hollow.

At no point does Mom engage the services of a sitter, as if somehow that would be an admission of defeat. She isn’t interested in joining other mothers either. She doesn’t want to articulate resentment or lie about her feelings. Three women gravitate towards her when one asks about her art. There is a neediness about their attention, more about themselves than about Mom. When Mom tells them that she used to be an artist, one of women confesses, ‘I used to be a stripper,’ as if asserting equivalence. Heller compares the three women to three dogs that hang around Mom, whom she first encounters in the park. The dogs appear to be attracted to Mom’s anxiety.

At night, Mom reads to her son a book about a truck. By day, they sit on the kerb watching refuse workers go about their day. One of the men waves to them. Trucks are soothing, soporific, also mechanical. We perceive that Mom is losing her sense of feeling. The boy loses interest in the book. He wants Mom’s attention, or rather he doesn’t know what he wants, except that he should share Mom’s experience.

Well, not every time. We see Mom in a food court buying $41 worth of breakfast items – charged by weight - giving her son some pieces of scrambled egg, encouraging him to pick it up by hand. Mom’s biodegradable knife and fork sag, contact with moist items making them unusable. Mom responds by lowering her face into the carton of food, biting into items, eating like a dog. Her son looks afraid. Other diners are aghast.

It is only when Mom weans her son from her bed by buying him a doggy basket and encouraging him to sleep in it that Pop gets really worried. Her response is to ask why he was so quick to allow her to give up her career. ‘I thought I was being supportive,’ Pop pleads with some credibility.



Pictured: Before dog days kick in, Pop (Scoot McNairy) and Mom (Amy Adams) in a scene from the American comedy drama, 'Nightbitch', adapted from the novel by Rachel Yoder by writer-director Marielle Heller. Still courtesy of Searchlight Pictures (US, UK)  


Two scenes cause us to experience parental anxiety. The first when Mom encourages her son, wearing only a disposable nappy, to use paint on a piece of paper that she has laid out on the kitchen floor. Her son puts his foot in yellow paint, then starts putting his paint-covered hands on the kitchen cabinet, finally knocking paint over. Watching him run into another room, Mom rushes to follow him, only to fall on her back. So much for fun time. As Heller lingers on Mom cleaning up after him, Amy Adams doesn’t appear to be acting. In the second scene, Pop prepares a bowl of spaghetti with tomato sauce for the child, only for the spaghetti to end up on the floor.

Why does Mom identify as a dog? While allowing her son to ride her like a horse, her son notices hair on her back. Mom examines herself. There is a bulbous lump. She heats up a needle and bursts it. White pus-like liquid oozes out. Then Mom pulls at some hair. She uncovers a tail. When she gives into Pop’s request for sex, she allows herself to be penetrated from behind, doggy style.

Mom attempts to re-insert herself into her world, dining with former colleagues. Only she orders a kale salad, helps herself to a few mouthfuls, then sicks it up. Does she reject it because she is unable to metabolize certain foods? Or is she expressing disapproval of her colleagues’ superficiality? Or is she punishing herself for wanting a child, then rejecting it?

You expect Mom to be saved by a medical professional. That’s not the ending Heller gives us. Yes, Mom takes the advice of another mother and gives herself a routine. Yes, she returns to her art. The very end shows us something quite different.



Pictured: A cluster of mothers swarm around Mom (Amy Adams, right) in a scene from 'Nightbitch', adapted from Rachel Yoder's novel by writer-director Marielle Heller. Still courtesy of Searchlight Pictures (UK, US)  


In contrast to her previous two films, Nightbitch isn’t awards-bait. Adams performance is self-abnegating, unflattering. She isn’t so much transformed as revealed, the woman who does not want to be looked at or seek male approval. You can’t describe the film as feel-good entertainment. However, it does what the best movies should – take you to a place that you don’t necessarily want to go, to show you what life is like. In the end, Mom is compelled to repeat the cycle. That’s what we all do.

Reviewed at London Film Festival, Royal Festival Hall, Wednesday 16 October 2024, 18:00 Gala screening  

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