The Terrible Twilights

One of the reasons why network dramas like This Is Us or Parenthood have been popular in an era of “prestige television” is that they depict an ordinary version of American life that’s relatively absent within cinema. There was an era in which dramas like Kramer vs. Kramer or Places in the Heart succeeded, but Hollywood has made a critical error in avoiding films that could in any way be deemed “relatable.” This is among the many reasons that Marielle Heller’s latest feature, Nightbitch, seemed like such a creative take on the classical “parenting drama.” Unfortunately, the lack of competition didn’t prevent Nightbitch from misinterpreting why its concept was so interesting.

Based on the popular novel of the same name by Rachel Yoder, Nightbitch stars Amy Adams as an unnamed mother who’s raised her young son (played by the twins Arleigh and Emmett Snowden) amidst her ascension to middle age. While there isn’t a significant breaking point or tragedy that triggers her feelings of depression, Adams’ character has dealt with doubts about the trajectory of her life for years. She once had dreams of becoming an artist, but those have dissipated due to the mundanity of being a stay-at-home-parent. Her husband, played by the brilliant character actor Scoot McNairy, is completely ignorant as to why she’s depressed. In his mind, spending time with their child is preferable to the dehumanizing nature of office life. What he doesn’t realize is that his wife has lost her sense of individuality.

While the premise of Nightbitch isn’t original one, Marielle Heller is a filmmaker who’s proven that she can bring depth to seemingly straightforward relationship stories. Heller’s coming off the success of the literary drama Can You Ever Forgive Me? and the Fred Rogers biopic A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, which managed to ditch overt sentimentality in favor of emotional realism. Nightbitch has an even more universal story about how the oppressive status, particularly for parents that can’t break out of a limited social circle. However, the honesty with which the film presented marital conflict and parenting is undercut by the most ham-fisted metaphor in recent memory.

Nightbitch makes the comparison between the alienation of maternity and the transformation into an animal. Adams’ character begins to possess the traits of a dog, which become more prominent as an attempt to reconnect with her passions is botched. It’s grounded in a dream-like logic that never establishes any clear rules. While Nightbitch isn’t the type of film that requires extensive worldbuilding, there’s a point where it becomes difficult to invest in a story when any moment could be a fantasy or dream sequence. The emphasis on the primal, physical comedy of being a dog also distracts from the emotional truth of what these moments are meant to represent.

This is disappointing because the idea’s funny, and may have made for an interesting film if the intention was purely satire. The moments of Nightbitch that work the best are when the lines between fantasy and reality are blurred; the husband’s inability to recognize his wife’s problematic behavior is a pretty great encapsulation of male ignorance. Unfortunately, the premise is counterintuitive to the message of Nightbitch; if the goal was to shed a spotlight on the woes of parenting, why does it need to be dressed up with this ridiculous conceit? Perhaps a stronger commitment to the absurd could’ve been more entertaining, but Nightbitch doesn’t show any willingness to get creative with the implications of a human-dog hybrid trying to raise a child.

Parenting’s messy, and the lines between being silly and serious are often blurred. At one point the mother has dedicated a day to impress her companions in a parenting group, but also has tried to reconnect with her artistic sensibilities. However, the messiness of the character doesn’t make the messiness of the film more compelling; by the point that Nightbitch arrives at a moment where its characters face a heart-to-heart, the conventionality of its ideas are revealed.

Nightbitch isn’t schlock, but it's not articulate. If there’s anything that elevates the film, it’s the extraordinary performance by Adams. She’s committed to vulnerability, and isn’t afraid to linger in the excruciating moments of embarrassment; somehow, a scene in which the mother blurts out an ignorant remark in front of another parent is more riddled with tension than any of the extended moments in which she’s encouraged her child to eat like a dog.

A narrative that’s emerged in the past few years has been Adams’ lack of an Academy Awards; despite six nominations, she’s fallen short every time, and was even overlooked for (arguably) her best performance in the science fiction drama Arrival. Nightbitch will not win Adams an Oscar, but it does suggest something more impressive. If her performance is enough to elevate this, then there’s no limit to what she could do with better material.