Let’s get this out of the way right at the top: Nightbitch is not a film about Amy Adams turning into a dog. Well, she does, in fact, turn into a dog some nights, in the latest film from Can You Ever Forgive Me? and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood writer-director Marielle Heller, and her evolution does involve growing hair in strange places, a newly discovered keen sense of smell, and running in packs with other dogs. But, unlike that odd first trailer that left the internet divided seemed to imply, Nightbitch isn’t about a six-time Oscar nominee becoming a dog. Instead, Nightbitch is about the powerful and transformative nature of motherhood and the desire to not lose one’s self after starting a family, shown through one of the wildest, most ambitious performances by Adams, who yes, sometimes turns into a dog.Adams stars as a woman simply known as Mother, who stays home every day with her son (played by the adorable Arleigh and Emmett Snowden). The film opens by showing us the monotony of this existence, with each day unfolding exactly the same as the last, centered entirely around the mother doing what the son wants. There are certainly moments of joy in these days, as they play and joke around, or go watch the trash trucks working on the street. But for Mother, who once had a thriving career in the arts, this isn’t what she envisioned. As we watch these days unfold, it’s clear that the Mother has a deep love for the son, but she’s also frustrated and exhausted that her days have been taken over by a child who will pee directly in her face and not even blink.Her husband (Scoot McNairy) is often away on business trips, and when he is around, he still relies on her to do everything, much to the Mother’s dismay and hope for just a moment to herself. But Mother starts noticing that her body is changing, as she becomes more animalistic—especially at night. As she seemingly starts to take on the characteristics of a dog, she almost welcomes this transformation, an opportunity to have something that’s her own, a chance to run wild in the streets, away from the responsibilities and problems that plague her day-to-day existence. She can be wild like she once was, following her whims rather than being a full-time caretaker. Nightbitch gives Adams a role that allows her to be pretty wild and experimental, but she also gives one of her best comedic performances since Enchanted.Nightbitch and Adams’ character both accept this wild concept, letting them play with this idea with a (mostly) straight face. Throughout the film, Adams’ Mother will give us moments where instead of giving a pat, boring answer to a person’s question, she goes all-in, explaining how she truly feels, and this transformation feels like an extension of that openness that she hides from the rest of the world. Adams is fearless in a role, not just because she gets to act like a dog throughout the film, but in presenting ideas about motherhood that often get ignored in cinema. She’s handling a delicate balance, where she adores her child, even in the worst moments, but she also regrets that she’s allowed this relationship to wholly define who she is. In bringing a human into this world, she’s also lost what made her so unique. Also giving a strong performance is McNairy, as the father who’s never quite there as much as he can be, taking advantage of the freedom that his wife rarely gets. While Mother was thrown into these new responsibilities that came with motherhood, the Father allowed her to take on this role without much assistance, which has led to many of the present problems. Yet McNairy’s Father isn’t some despicable, absentee father, but rather, a confused man who doesn’t know how to help his wife who often puts on a smile and accepts the challenges of the day. He wants to help, and he wants to be the assistance his partner needs, he just doesn’t know how to be present and assist in those duties. It’s an understated role for McNairy that highlights the freedom men often unfairly get as fathers, while also making his place in this relationship understandable and never despicable.