Nightbitch

Mother (Amy Adams) is alone. Her Husband (Scoot McNairy) is off every day pursuing his career. Her life has stalled with the birth of their child. In public, she puts on a brave face, though on the inside she's screaming. She loves her kid, how could she not, but she's tired and anxious and full of so much emotion it tears her apart. In the end, all she wants to do is scream and howl and bark like an animal – until she finds herself turning into one.

Nightbitch is all about magical realism and body horror. Like The Substance, it deals with women in an unjust society coming to terms with their generational trauma. While it sounds dark and morbid, director Marielle Heller, who adapted the script from Rachel Yoder's novel, keeps things just on the right side of comedic. For every bit of tragedy, there's pitch-black levity.

I'm not a parent, and I doubt I'll ever be one. There are no genes I need to pass on, and I can barely function like an adult on my own – no need to bring kids into that. Yet that doesn't mean I can't empathize with the anxiety of parenthood. Especially when it's communicated as eloquently as it is here. It's a contradiction of love and terror, as you're responsible for this tiny life when all you want to do is rest. Adams is superb, as always, and sets the tone from the start with a devastating monologue about all the things she's afraid she'll get wrong. Then, we cut back to minutes earlier and, with a brave face, she just smiles. It's everything she wants to say, and everything she actually can, because as a society we're not there yet in acknowledging unspoken truths.

This is a fine film, especially for young men, as it's honest and enlightening. After the screening, I attended a press junket with other critics, all of whom were women. Adams gave an insightful interview about the film, but also on motherhood and the experience of speaking about these issues in a mainstream release. Throughout both the film and the junket, I couldn't help but think how little I knew of these things – even as I thought I understood them. As a colleague remarked, Nightbitch doesn't say anything new to those who've experienced these things, but the fact that it says them out loud and publicly is important on its own.

But is that enough? Well, to an extent, yes. Nightbitch works because Amy Adams delivers a fearless, compelling performance of an imperfect yet thoroughly understandable person. Her frustrations, fears, and joys are palpable. In a bravura scene, where she tears down the many ways her marriage has fallen apart, Nightbitch hits so many uncomfortable truths largely ignored by movies that it genuinely hurts to watch.

And yet, there's a level of repetition to the plot, which rarely extends beyond "motherhood and marriage are hard". That's a shame because we know these things are hard, and we know adulthood is, too. I don't expect Nightbitch to represent everyone, or speak for all mothers in the process. But I felt that, in the end, it also didn't speak for itself that much, either.

It wraps up too neatly, even though it's lovely to see adults talk through their troubles. There's an element of fairy tale logic to it all, and that would be fine if the rest of the film wasn't more in line with The Brothers Grimm than Disney.

Despite these complaints, Nightbitch is still worth seeing even with its frustrations. It's a stark reminder of what a colossal talent Amy Adams is, and how lucky we are to have her. And if it gets couples talking, even better.