Nightbitch

Amy Adams sinks her teeth into motherhood in this primal drama

Amy Adams gives a ferocious performance in Nightbitch.

Mother (Amy Adams) used to have a name. She was once a promising artist with grant money and shows dedicated to her brilliance. She was once a woman who enjoyed intimacy with her husband and took time to make herself feel and look good.

Now, however, she is simply Mother.

After having a baby, everything other than the identity of Mother has been stripped away from her. She can’t shower in peace. She is constantly trying to keep her son entertained and behaving. She feels the judgment around her when she fails at these tasks.

Worse, the suburban moms she used to look down upon are now her only outlet for adult interaction. Her husband travels for work. He has to work longer and further afield since they made the decision for Mother to stay home with their child. He gets to leave, he gets to go do interesting things. Mother gets to watch from the window as the baby screams. When she tries to reconnect with her old art school friends, they look at her with condescension and pity. She isn’t who she was.

So… who is she?

She might, in fact, be a werewolf. Not literally, but she’s started to feel some things in common with the local dogs in her neighborhood. She’s growing body hair in odd places. Raw meat is the only thing she wants to eat. She feels herself wanting to run and howl at the moon. Suddenly, cats aren’t cute, but delicious.

Motherhood is a real bitch in director Marielle Heller’s scathing look at what women are forced to give up. It’s not that Mother hates her child or regrets having him, she simply regrets giving up every piece of herself that wasn’t maternal. As she embraces the primal power in motherhood, however, she begins to claw her way back to something all her own.

The concept that motherhood is hard is not a new one. The idea that women are often forced to sacrifice more of themselves for the household than their male partners is also not a new one, but Heller isn’t trying to inform the audience of something they missed; she’s trying to hold them up to a truth we all know and rarely acknowledge. Heller isn’t here for subtlety; she’s brought a sledgehammer, and she will use it if you fail to see how women drown without support from friends and family.

This drive back to the primal, back to a snarling beast of a thing, is an interesting way of encouraging women back to a basic form of themselves. As Mother feels herself turning into a dog, she’s still experiencing common symptoms that pregnant/postpartum women experience. Sometimes, your body hair gets thicker. Sometimes, your iron gets so low that you crave raw meat. I’m not sure if local cats start looking appetizing, but I hope not.

The movie and its call to arms are held together by a bravura performance from Adams. One of the finest actors working today, Adams is a snarling force in dirty sweatpants throughout most of the movie. Her mother has a realistic postpartum body, is dead on her feet most days, and just wants someone, anyone, to look at her and not need something. As Mother accepts the primal call, however, light returns to her eyes. Adams comes alive as she’s pawing through the earth and tearing into raw meat with her teeth. It’s a fantastic performance from one of our best talents.

If you’ve ever had a child, Nightbitch might speak to some of the things you felt as you learned your new role of Mother. If you’ve never had a child, Nightbitch serves as a warning and a call to arms. Check on your mom friends, ask them about things outside of the kids, see them as people…or they might just bite you.

Verdict: There’s plenty of bite in this interesting drama

Nightbitch is rated R and is available in theaters December 6 and on Hulu December 13