Review: ‘Nightbitch’

At its core, Nightbitch follows a woman who has given up her artistic career to become a stay-at-home mom. Like many parents, she’s grapples with the monotony and invisibility that can come with staying at home. But her experience takes a strange turn as she becomes convinced she’s turning into a dog. It’s an absurd premise, to be sure, and I’m sure there were deep discussions around storyboard diving into what the audience should take away as the deeper meaning, but in my opinion it simply missed the mark.

About 30 minutes into the movie, I was already wondering what I’d gotten myself into. While the premise held potential, the execution left much to be desired. The film’s exploration of the protagonist’s supposed transformation into a dog felt underdeveloped, leaving a gaping hole where the narrative could have truly delved into the surreal.

Amy Adams is the heart and soul of the movie. Her portrayal of the protagonist is layered with vulnerability, frustration, and moments of unbridled rage. It’s a bold role, and Adams leans into every surreal moment with conviction. Whether she’s growling under her breath or staring down the abyss of her own identity crisis, her performance is magnetic. It’s a reminder of why Adams has been one of the most consistently fascinating actors of her generation. Yet, despite her best efforts, the film itself doesn’t quite rise to meet her talent.

The film itself is a curious mix of tones, blending body horror, dark comedy, and moments of deeply felt drama. Director Marielle Heller (A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Can You Ever Forgive Me?) walks a fine line between the absurd and the profound. There are moments that feel almost too outlandish to take seriously, but then there are quiet, gut-wrenching scenes that strike a nerve. It’s this interplay that keeps the audience guessing—and often uncomfortable.

That discomfort is part of the point. Nightbitch doesn’t offer easy answers or resolutions. Instead, it revels in the messiness of its protagonist’s experience. Motherhood, it suggests, isn’t just about self-sacrifice and nurturing. It’s also about grappling with the parts of yourself you’d rather not confront: the anger, the resentment, the yearning for freedom. These themes will likely resonate with any viewer who has ever felt trapped by societal expectations.

However, the film isn’t without its flaws. Some subplots feel underdeveloped, and the blend of tones might be jarring for those expecting a more straightforward narrative. The metaphor of transforming into a dog is undeniably on the nose, and at times, the film’s pacing lags. One of the movie’s biggest missed opportunities was not leaning more heavily into the surreal elements of the transformation. This premise had the potential to be deeply unsettling and fascinating, but the film failed to fully commit.

Ultimately, Nightbitch is not for everyone. Its surreal approach and dark humor might alienate viewers looking for a more conventional exploration of motherhood. But for those willing to dive into its strange, feral world, it’s a thought-provoking meditation on identity, power, and the untamed parts of ourselves we’re often forced to bury. With a fearless performance by Amy Adams at its center, it’s a movie that’s as messy and wild as life itself—and that’s what makes it worth a single watch. Don’t expect a review of the book this is based on from me anytime soon.