Amy Adams Delivers A Great Performance, But Nightbitch Is Missing The Sharp Teeth Of The Novel It’s Based On

I have mixed feelings on “the book was better” discourse when it comes to feature adaptations. On the one hand, it is obviously fair to compare a movie with its source material, but it’s never a totally fair comparison. Not only do films have restricted creative real estate to work with in the form of runtime (which necessitates alterations and deviations by screenwriters), but there’s something that feels weird about judging the images you conjured in your head as a reader next to a filmmaker’s vision. Prose and cinema are different mediums, and expecting something to wholly align with your own imagination is unrealistic.

Nightbitch is a unusual instance, however, in that the film doesn’t only cut out sequences and minimize certain elements; it has a different mood. With its body metamorphosis, animal violence, and intense rage, Rachel Yoder’s novel is a bloody horror satire, but what writer/director Marielle Heller has made with her adaptation is better described as a fantasy-touched dramedy. It’s a genre shift that really throttled me during my screening of the movie at the Toronto International Film Festival, and it’s really difficult to put aside as I reflect on it – while still having a great deal of appreciation for its brutally honest commentary on motherhood, its characters, and yet another excellent turn from the always-reliable Amy Adams. (And for what it’s worth up front, it’s much better than the trailer that was released pre-premiere).

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