Movies with Meaning, by Brent Marchant, TGMN Movie Correspondent

The Fundamental Right To Choose

Choice is arguably the most precious personal resource that we possess. It makes so much possible, and it provides us with so many opportunities to seek the fulfillment of what we hold most dear. Because of that, however, there may well be times when what we choose to embrace and invoke won’t be agreeable to others. But, then, the choices in question are ours and fundamentally not subject to the approval of others, save for cases where their well-being might be placed in jeopardy. That even includes choices involving the direction that our own personal fate ultimately takes, again, no matter what others may have to say about it. Such is the question that’s called for a terminally ill woman in making her decision on whether or not to willfully continue her existence in light of what lies ahead, a deeply personal matter explored in the new end of life drama, “The Room Next Door” (“La habitación de al lado”) (web site, trailer).

Movies about the right to die through the practice of self-euthanasia or assisted suicide aren’t exactly new. Many have been filmed over the years, with the focus they take in their respective stories being the distinguishing factor among them. For example, in “Whose Life Is It Anyway?” (1981), an artist (Richard Dreyfuss) paralyzed from the neck down and unable to work anymore takes his case to court to affirm his desire to die. In “Blackbird” (2019) and “Everything Went Fine” (“Tout s’est bien passé”) (2021), loving family members wrestle with their feelings about helping their relatives pass on when hope for recovery is lost. And, in “You Don’t Know Jack” (2010), Al Pacino gives a stellar performance in the film biography of Dr. Jack Kevorkian (a.k.a., “Dr. Death”), who defied legal sanctions against him for his willingness to aid terminally ill patients in acts of physician-assisted suicide. In this latest offering in this genre, “The Room Next Door” examines the experiences of two longtime friends when one is asked to provide much-needed guidance, comfort and support to her dying companion when she willingly decides to transition before the agony she’s experiencing becomes intolerable.

While the particulars of these films vary from picture to picture, they all essentially deal with the same underlying concern – the right to die. Even more fundamentally, however, is the consideration that a decision of this nature represents – the right to choose one’s own destiny, regardless of what others think or feel. And, in this case, it’s brought home with a greater sense of poignancy than is generally the case in other offerings addressing the issue of choice given the magnitude of the viewpoints held by each of the protagonists.

Ingrid (Julianne Moore) and Martha (Tilda Swinton) have been friends for years. They first became acquainted when working as writers for the same magazine in New York City. Over time, however, their careers diverged, with each of them pursuing different paths. Ingrid became a book author, while Martha worked as an on-the-ground war correspondent. Because of their differing work choices, they seldom saw one another much in subsequent years, but, despite this, their emotional connection to one another hadn’t completely vanished.

Quite unexpectedly, however, the connection between the two old friends would become revived through somewhat unusual circumstances. While conducting a book signing for the release of her latest book, Ingrid is approached by a mutual friend (Sarah Demeestere), who informs her of Martha’s failing health. Ingrid is quite obviously stunned by this revelation, and it’s a reaction made even more unnerving than expected given that her new book is a first-person account of her profound apprehension regarding death. But, despite the unsettling nature of this news, their years of no contact and the fact that these circumstances bring Ingrid face to face with her deepest fear, she decides to pay Martha a visit to check in on her old friend to see if there’s anything she can do to help.

When Ingrid and Martha meet for the first time, Martha says that her doctors have assured her that her prognosis is hopeful, that she’s not on death’s doorstep just yet, news that clearly raises Ingrid’s spirits. Ingrid thus sees hope that their relationship can be renewed. And, subsequently, they begin spending a great deal of time together, reminiscing about the past, sharing stories about their respective experiences and exchanging confidences, some of which are depicted through a series of flashbacks.

However, as promising as circumstances may have looked initially, Martha subsequently receives disappointing news when she’s informed that her treatments have not been working as projected, a distressing development for both women. And it’s at this point, after the newfound resurgence in their friendship, that Martha shares a secret with Ingrid: In preparation for this despairing possibility, she has been quietly investigating what would be involved in taking her own life. Given her awareness of what would likely lie ahead if she were to continue carrying on as she has been, Martha acknowledges that she’s not willing to put herself through the pain, misery and suffering that invariably awaits her. She would rather exit this life on her time and her terms than allow herself to deteriorate further just to ease the feelings and beliefs of others in what she sees as an act of phony nobility. But, to embark on such a journey, Martha admits that she could use some help to carry out this plan, which is why she has now confided her wishes to Ingrid. Considering how close the two of them have grown recently, Martha would like Ingrid to accompany her on this last stage of her life.

Needless to say, the request leaves Ingrid uncomfortable. Given her fear of death, as outlined in her new book, this is a subject that fundamentally causes Ingrid great anxiety. But, now that she’s been asked to participate in a scenario in which death is being implemented intentionally, she’s even more troubled by the request. At the same time, though, Ingrid wants to be of help to a good friend in need and feels guilty about the prospect of refusing her friend’s appeal. She’s obviously conflicted about how to proceed, but she also knows that she can’t take forever to decide in light of Martha’s faltering condition and her determination to proceed with the process, regardless of whether Ingrid is involved.

Specifically, Martha is looking for someone to be nearby at the time of her passing, to keep her company during her transition. To carry out this task, she tells Ingrid that she has rented a vacation home in a beautiful location in the Hudson River Valley, a property surrounded by lush forests and comfortable surroundings. She has clandestinely acquired lethal medication for the procedure, which she says she will carry out in her bedroom. She tells Ingrid that, as long as the bedroom door is left open, she will still be alive. But, if Ingrid were to find the bedroom door closed, that will be a sign that she has proceeded with her plan. Even though Ingrid would not be in immediate physical proximity for her friend’s death, Martha admits that she would nevertheless take great comfort knowing that there would be someone close at hand in “the room next door.” Furthermore, Martha adds that the timing of the event will not be revealed in advance but that she will leave a note of explanation for authorities indicating that her “vacation partner” knew nothing of her intentions ahead of time, a means of protecting Ingrid from potential legal liabilities.

In addition, Martha asks that Ingrid contact her long-estranged daughter, Michelle, after her passing. The longstanding separation between mother and daughter is one of the subplots revealed in one of the aforementioned flashbacks. Even though Martha and Michelle haven’t been in contact for years, she wants her to know what happened in order to bring about a sense of closure, if for no other reason than her own peace of mind.

With these instructions so meticulously outlined, it would appear that Martha has planned out matters in exacting detail. All she needs now is Ingrid’s decision, which comes not long thereafter. Given that she can’t bring herself to turn her back on a friend in time of need, Ingrid relents and agrees to be the companion Martha is looking for. However, altruism aside, Ingrid is still unsettled about proceeding with this venture, an experience that will test her resolve, her innate fears and her ability to come through in a crisis, especially when developments take on unforeseen twists and turns along the way.

A lot has been asked of Ingrid in this situation. But, then, isn’t that one of the reasons why we have friends in the first place? And isn’t that especially true when it comes to supporting our loved ones in times of making and living out their choices, even if we disagree with them? That’s what both women are about to find out as events unfold in the room next door.

As this odyssey begins, Martha and Ingrid are embarking on both individual and collective journeys of discovery, all of them fundamentally based on their respective and joint choices. And those choices, in turn, are based on their mutual and individual beliefs. This is important in light of the role that those convictions play in how matters will play out. It’s unclear whether either Martha or Ingrid have heard of this school of thought, but, considering their highly introspective natures, it would seem they each have a good grasp on knowing themselves and what they believe, even if they aren’t totally aware of what will emerge – and what they will learn – from these internal explorations.

Based on how thoroughly she has organized her thoughts and investigated her options, Martha would appear to be comfortable with her choice and well acquainted with what she’s about to undertake. Considering that she’s been contemplating what will essentially be the final act of her existence, she’s quite clear in terms of how to go about it and accepting that it’s the right decision for her. And, considering the life she has led and the future she now faces, her reasoning for making this decision is understandable. For instance, as seen in the flashbacks, Martha’s life hasn’t always panned out as hoped for, having incurred her share of pain and disappointment, such as the emotional anguish that her younger self (Esther McGregor) experienced with the collapse of her relationship with the father of her child (Alex Høgh Andersen) and her subsequent estrangement from her daughter. And, having worked as a war correspondent, she undoubtedly saw plenty of humanity’s darker side, events that inevitably left an indelible mark on her consciousness. So, because of this background and her desire not to undergo further, prolonged discomfort, she’s determined to end her life on her terms, under conditions of her choosing.

Martha firmly believes that this is the right course to follow, regardless of what anyone else might think, and that she can successfully accomplish her goal in line with her wishes. She has planned this venture in tremendous detail, clearly envisioning how she would like it to unfold. For example, she has selected a lovely venue to carry out this act, and she has deliberately chosen someplace new so as not to unduly taint whatever fond memories she holds of beloved locations from her past. Indeed, this is an experience that she wants to transpire in exactly the ways she wants it to, and she has made quite the effort to see that through.

Ingrid, by contrast, is more conflicted with the choice she has made. She wants to be a good friend to Martha, but facing the prospect of death firsthand still troubles her. Admittedly, writing her most recent book represented a big step in owning this part of her shadow side, but witnessing a kindred’s passing from such an up-close perspective is something else altogether. No matter what courage she’s able to muster for this undertaking, she’s still plagued by beliefs peppered with doubt and uncertainty, prompting her to question if she’s doing the right thing, despite whatever personal growth and development she might glean from the experience.

Fortunately, Ingrid has managed to surround herself with a support network to help her sort out her feelings. Most notably, she calls on her old friend and onetime romantic interest, Damian (John Turturro) (who, ironically, was once romantically linked to Martha, too), when in need of guidance, reassurance and support. Similarly, she freely consults with an attorney (Melina Matthews) to provide advice when legal questions arise, a valuable ally at times when she’s approached by authorities, such as a fundamentalist police officer (Alessandro Nivola) investigating the circumstances of this situation. As most of us are likely to agree, having familiars around to back up our beliefs and validate our choices can work wonders under trying times like these, and she should be grateful for drawing them into her presence.

But, no matter what Martha and Ingrid might be going through individually, there are still their collective choices and beliefs to contend with as well. On some level, they have agreed to go through this experience together and, consciously or not, have formulated beliefs to accommodate the dynamics of that joint decision. In a big way, they’re acting as teachers for one another. Martha, for instance, is endeavoring to help Ingrid further overcome her fear of death. And Ingrid, for her part, is helping Martha to discover that there truly is goodness and empathy in the world and that it can be bestowed upon those who need it, when they most require it. Martha thus helps Ingrid to see that one’s passing can indeed be a beautiful experience, while Ingrid makes it possible for Martha to be enveloped in kindness at a time when it’s needed most, outcomes ultimately made possible by the mutually agreed-upon choices invoked by these two compassionately inspired collaborators. This naturally raises the question, can any of us imagine a more satisfying way to make an exit from this life, even if the idea defies the conventional wisdom?

To live or to die is a decision many of us are probably reluctant to address. The fear of this great unknown is enough to keep the notion at bay. But what if we were to find ourselves dealing with a terminal illness with little hope for the future? Would we be willing to nobly soldier on, knowing that our circumstances are only going to get worse, or would we choose to transition to what’s next with dignity on our own terms? That’s what renowned Spanish writer-director Pedro Almódovar explores in his latest feature offering (his first English language production), providing viewers with a thoughtful, profound yet practical and eminently moving take on a controversial subject that’s been surfacing more widely in public discourse of late. While the film periodically veers off onto somewhat unrelated narrative tangents and occasionally becomes a little too talky for its own good (qualities that often encroach upon the flow of Almódovar’s works), this is arguably one of the filmmaker’s finest efforts both in terms of the sensitivity employed in the treatment of its subject, as well as in raising questions about the validity and propriety of right to die matters. It’s particularly noteworthy for the superb performances of its two principals, both of whom turn in some of the best work of their careers, as evidenced by Swinton’s Golden Globe Award nomination for best lead actress in a drama, as well as for its vivid and stunningly gorgeous cinematography, whose vibrant images recall the paintings of Edward Hopper. Moreover, those staring down the kinds of circumstances faced by the characters in this film may well find valuable insights in what it has to say at a time when we may ourselves be lost for words. The film is available for streaming online.

It’s long been believed that none of us will know the specific time when we’ll pass, that it’s something entirely left up to fate. But must it be that way, especially if we face a difficult road ahead? Indeed, if we concertedly put our minds to our circumstances, we may conclude that leaving matters to chance might not be the wisest course, and “The Room Next Door” gives us much to ponder in that regard. Whatever we decide, we should all at least hope that the end comes in a way that suits us, that fulfills our choices – and that gives us the kind of send-off we desire on our journey to whatever comes next.

A complete review is available by clicking here.

New Movies for March

Join yours truly and show host Frankie Picasso for looks at five new films on the upcoming movie review edition of the Frankiesense & More video podcast, to begin airing Thursday March 27 at 1 pm ET. Tune in on Facebook or YouTube for all the lively chat and movie fun!

My Oscar Scorecard

 

So how did I do on my Oscar predictions this year? Well, I’m sorry to say not as well as I would have liked. For details, check out “My 2025 Oscar Scorecard,” available by clicking here. I hope to do better next year!

The Quest To Cope

Many of us these days are experiencing a certain inexplicable unsettledness with our lives, a constant sense of frustration and restlessness that seems to defy explanation – or resolution. Because of those conditions, we may also find ourselves becoming increasingly aggravated, with our fuses growing progressively shorter. And, no matter what we might do to try and address these circumstances, it often feels like nothing works, that the irritation is perpetual and unrelenting. As a consequence, coping becomes virtually impossible as we struggle to find a way to keep going, circumstances all too familiar to a middle-aged British housewife in her attempts to keep from losing it, as seen in the new dark comedy-drama, “Hard Truths” (web site, trailer).

Homemaker Pansy Deacon (Marianne Jean-Baptiste) is perpetually angry at life, constantly doling out complaints and insults at everyone and everything in her path. In fact, she’s become so adept at this dubious “skill” that she’s practically perfected it as an artform. She routinely laces her criticisms with pointed humor that, at least superficially, comes across as hilarious. But, when one looks at her situation more closely, it doesn’t seem all that funny.

Pansy essentially berates everyone with whom she comes into contact, and the effects of her tongue lashings can be devastating on her targets. This is perhaps best seen in her dealings with her family, such as her husband, Curley (David Webber), a generally good-natured, hard-working bloke who never seems to do enough to satisfy his incessantly irascible wife, treatment that often prompts him to shut down and tune her out. Then there’s Pansy’s 22-year-old habitually unemployed son, Moses (Tuwaine Barrett), who has been so repeatedly beaten down by his mother’s never-ending stream of disparagement that he has virtually cut himself off from life entirely, rarely speaking, doing little to care for himself and often disappearing for hours on end without explanation. But Curley and Moses are not the only ones to incur Pansy’s wrath; even those who try to be friendly, nice or accommodating become victims of her tirades, as seen in a series of incidents involving her doctor (Ruby Bentall), her dentist (Hiral Versani), a furniture store salesperson (Alice Bailey Johnson), a supermarket cashier (Ashna Rabheru) and Curley’s trusty co-worker, Virgil (Jonathan Livingstone). And there are times when Pansy gets back what she dishes out, encouraging her to up her game even more, as happens in confrontations with an irate motorist (Gary Beadle) and a pair of grocery store customers (Bryony Miller, Diveen Henry).

In fact, the only people who don’t take offense at Pansy’s railings are her younger sister, Chantelle (Michele Austin), and her two daughters, Kayla (Ani Nelson) and Aleisha (Sophia Brown). They genuinely try to understand the rage residing within their sister/aunt, offering kindness and support, no matter how challenging that may become. Such attempts at appeasement sometimes help to calm Pansy, but the resulting quietude also frequently carries a certain aura of resentment with it, as if she feels she’s being denied the opportunity to express herself and to relish the one thing that seems to give her any degree of satisfaction. And that, in turn, evokes what appears to be the onset of depression, which raises questions about the state of Pansy’s well-being and mental health.

All of the foregoing naturally begs the questions, “Where is all this coming from?” and “What prompted its emergence?” And those are indeed valid questions. Is it due to the stresses of everyday modern life (which, given prevailing conditions these days, could be seen as understandable)? Are there deep-seeded issues that Pansy is unable or unwilling to address? And has she become so accustomed to thinking and feeling this way that she can’t (or won’t) envision any other way of being? At one point, there are allusions to Pansy’s past, when her mother relegated her the ongoing responsibility of becoming Chantelle’s caretaker, thereby somehow depriving her the joys of growing up, but is this enough to still be setting her off so many years later (and to this degree)? Moreover, if this resentment is indeed the underlying cause, how is it that Pansy is able to keep herself from taking things out on her sister? Is it possible that somewhere deep down inside her consciousness she might see a way to bring herself out of this state of unrelenting anger but can’t bring herself to do so?

Such are the challenges that Pansy must wrestle with. But can she overcome them, or is it too much for her to handle? If she truly wants to find an answer, one will surface, but it must come from within her, specifically the beliefs she holds about herself and the world around her. That’s crucial considering the role that our beliefs play in the manifestation of our existence. It’s unclear – in fact, in this case, highly doubtful – that Pansy has ever heard of this way of thinking. But, if she ever hopes to unburden herself of the weight of circumstances pressing down on her, she would be wise to do some soul-searching in the hope that she discovers it and put it to use in her life.

Of course, to understand how to make use of our beliefs in this way, we must understand what they are in the first place – that is, what notions have hold over our thinking and that govern what they manifest. This may not be easy to determine, though, given that our beliefs can become deeply embedded in our consciousness, almost to the point where we don’t readily recognize or understand them or how they hold sway in our existence. Only then can we begin the process of adjusting them to create more satisfactory or amenable forms.

This first step is positively crucial where Pansy is concerned. As her story plays out, it’s apparent she does not have a clear handle over her beliefs and why they’re expressing themselves as they are. And, considering how firmly entrenched they appear to be, she has her work cut out for herself in determining what they are, how they came to be and the ways in which she might want to consider changing them. That’s truly a tall order.

One point on which Pansy seems intractable is the fact that others often seem unwilling to acknowledge her beliefs and their associated feelings for what they are. They keep trying to change her to the way that they think she should be. But that attempt at imposed denial is a source of resentment for her; it’s as if others are trying to willfully and summarily dismiss her right to holding those notions, and she’s incensed by it, clearly dug into the idea that her beliefs and feelings must be acknowledged for what they are, no matter how much others may disagree with them. After all, they represent who she is, and rejecting them out of hand is, in turn, a rejection of her. Is it any wonder, then, why she remains perpetually angry?

This is important for others to recognize, because beliefs and feelings like this don’t know logic. They are what they are and can’t just be willed away because we don’t agree with them. However, by making the effort to try and understand why these beliefs are in place, we create an environment of recognition and acceptance, something that Pansy apparently needs if she’s ever to begin to process of rewriting them to something more suitable, acceptable and satisfying.

Is that too much to ask? Some might say yes without another thought. But those who are willing to take the time to consider this idea may quickly come to realize that it’s not unreasonable, given that it’s something we all likely want for ourselves. Why should Pansy be any different?

To compound matters, if she looks around and sees others getting what she wants, she might not only feel resentful, but also alone. She could well see herself as being purposely excluded. Suppose what any of us might come to believe – and how any of us might feel – if we were in Pansy’s shoes? Understanding this would go a long way toward explaining the relentless anger and periodic depression she experiences. If beliefs and feelings like these are allowed to become so ingrained and remain unacknowledged by others, is it any surprise, then, that they manifest in the form of such open hostility?

Unfortunately, there are so many people experiencing what Pansy is going through these days, and it’s a safe bet that they’re feeling the same kind of marginalization she’s undergoing. While it’s reasonable to believe that they shouldn’t be given carte blanche when it comes to expressing themselves and their discontent, that’s not to suggest that they should be prevented from doing so at all. Venting is vital to them at least until their beliefs and feelings are recognized to an acceptable degree, and that’s especially true when no one is willing to extend such a degree of compassion and understanding. Pansy can certainly relate to this, too, given that the only ones in her life who seem willing to do so are Chantelle and her daughters. Fortunately, they appear to have enough insight to see that something is seriously amiss in Pansy’s psyche and that she needs to be heard and understood if anything meaningful is ever to change.

Sadly, because Pansy’s beliefs and feelings appear to be hanging on so stubbornly, they’re likely to be difficult to abandon – and, consequently, to make alterations in her thinking attainable. Indeed, they can prove to be quite an impediment to invoking change, reinforcing the loneliness and victimhood that she’s experiencing and that are likely to continue being expressed through her antisocial behavior. And it’s because of this that her colorfully creative barbs don’t seem so funny after a while. But, if others are willing to extend to her the same courtesy of acknowledgment that the majority of us so readily enjoy, there may be hope for Pansy yet. The hard truths of life may thus come to be somewhat softened, opening the door to a more agreeable form of existence. For Pansy’s sake – and all the others who find themselves in her circumstances – let us all hope so.

As many of us can attest, the strains of daily living and the ghosts of our past can take their toll on us in myriad ways, leaving us frazzled, frustrated, depressed and perpetually angry. We may not like the emergence of those outcomes, as they can effectively isolate us from others, including those we’re thought to care most about. But those conditions can become so overwhelming that we can’t cope nor allow well-meaning others to step in and help us. Such is the case for Pansy Deacon and her familiars. Some onlookers may contend that such behavior is little more than a way to attract attention and sympathy and that there comes a point where patience and tolerance run out, but this story also draws valuable attention to the need for compassion and understanding in situations like these.

As with many of his other film projects, writer-director Mike Leigh again presents viewers with a character study of an individual who fruitlessly wrestles with her circumstances without direction and ultimately comes no closer to resolving them than where she was when the opening credits rolled. Consequently, some may find this a frustrating, repetitive cinematic experience. Yet, to its credit, the film also paints a realistic, candid portrait to which many of us can probably quietly relate. In telling Pansy’s story, the filmmaker concocts an intriguing mix of comedy and drama, though, as noted above, the laughs generated here may prove to be not so funny as the protagonist’s saga plays out. To that end then, some might argue that “Hard Truths” offers us no easy answers, but isn’t that often the case where working through life’s hard truths is concerned? While the character development here could stand to be a little stronger at times (especially in terms of back story) and some ancillary narrative threads could have been easily eliminated – elements not uncommon in Leigh’s pictures – this is arguably the director’s most intimate, heartfelt and accessible release. In large part that’s thanks to the film’s National Board of Review Award-winning screenplay and its excellent performances, most notably Jean-Baptiste’s award-worthy portrayal, one that deservedly earned her BAFTA and Critics Choice Award nominations. Given the foregoing, this may not be the easiest picture to watch, but it’s sure to provide us with much to reflect upon both for others – and ourselves – as we seek to figure how to assess life and the challenges it presents us.

In addition to the foregoing honors, “Hard Truths” also earned other accolades, including a BAFTA Award nomination for Best British Film and an Independent Spirit Award nod for Best International Film. The picture was also named one of the National Board of Review’s Top 10 independent films of 2024. The release recently completed its theatrical run but is now available for streaming online.

In 1974, the British-American pop band America scored a hit with the single Lonely People by songwriters Dan and Catherine Peek, a thought-provoking number that opened with the line “This is for all the lonely people thinking that life has passed them by.” Sadly, this is a sentiment to which far too many individuals can relate, and one might contend that this would undoubtedly include Pansy Deacon. What’s more, it’s a situation from which she sees no escape, a scenario in which she’s locked in (or, more precisely, one might say in which she’s locked herself in). However, as the song’s hopeful lyrics progress, they take on an optimistic tone, encouraging those who feel left out to make an effort to try and change their circumstances. And, where our beliefs are involved, that’s entirely possible as long as we attempt to adjust what seems like an unalterable fate. It may not be an easy process, but, in all honesty, one has nothing to lose by giving it a shot, especially in light of the alternative. Indeed, as America observed, doing so might truly make it possible to “drink from the silver cup,” a prospect preferable to forever remaining thirsty, lonesome and left out in the cold. All one need do is try.

A complete review is available by clicking here. 

Unmasking the Challenges of Motherhood

Ah, motherhood – it’s one of those notions that, in the minds of many, is sacrosanct, inviolable and beyond reproach. Indeed, they believe, there is no more noble a calling than this, a venture to which every woman should unselfishly aspire and feel honored to experience. But is that really the case? Is it truly everything it’s said to be? In fact, isn’t it possible that some women who find themselves in this role aren’t cut out for it and innately regret having taken that step? “How dare they!” intolerant critics might exclaim. Yet that’s exactly the question called for examination in the edgy, satirical dark comedy, “Nightbitch”  (web site, trailer).

Writer-director Marielle Heller’s latest offering takes a frank, hard-nosed look at its subject, one to which many women can probably relate (even if quietly, secretly or reluctantly). In fact, to reflect that, the film refers to its characters generically, almost as if the circumstances examined here possess a kind of “everywoman” quality about them. That sort of anonymity is likely to provide a sense of comfort to audience members who hold the views expressed here, a way of showing that they’re not alone in their outlooks, a sentiment that’s more widely held than many women realize – or are willing to openly admit.

Mother (Amy Adams) is a former artist who agreed to become a stay-at-home mom when she and Husband (Scoot McNairy) decided to start a family.  And now that Son (Arleigh Patrick Snowden, Emmett James Snowden) is a rambunctious toddler going through the Terrible Twos, she’s overwhelmed by the unrelenting day-to-day care involved in raising the adorable little monster. Granted, she dearly loves her son, but the stress of having to always be “on” that typically comes with motherhood is beginning to wear on her. In fact, some – including Mother herself – would say that she’s about to crack.

In addition to all of the responsibilities associated with child-rearing, Mother misses the vocation that she left behind. She feels that, just because she became a mother, it doesn’t mean she stopped being a person, one with needs, interests and a craving for fulfillment involving something more than changing diapers and going to weekly Book Babies meetings at the local library. What’s more, she often feels burdened by caring for everything domestic – not just Son’s care, but also all of the cooking, cleaning and other obligations that come with being a housewife and that don’t stop when 5 o’clock rolls around, conditions for which Husband offers virtually no support, compassion or understanding. He essentially assumes that, as the household breadwinner, his job is done at the end of the day and that he’s entitled to stretch out on the couch watching TV while dinner’s being prepared.

Needless to say, Mother tires of this way of life, to the point where she grows resentful of her existence. Anger and frustration begin welling up within her, but is such behavior “allowable” for a wife and mother? Aren’t women in that position supposed to just accept their fate? Indeed, aren’t they snubbing their noses at a role that they allegedly took on cheerfully and without reservation, with an implied willingness to never complain about or grow openly frustrated with their circumstances? (I’m sure Husband would never, ever dare complain about what he undergoes in his job, so what gives her the right to do so?)

As time passes, though, conditions grow ever more exasperating for Mother, and she has trouble containing her feelings. She needs an outlet to express herself, and she finds it in a fitting, if somewhat unlikely source – the local canine population. Mother begins to relate to the instinctual nature of her four-legged companions, the almost-feral attitudes and behaviors of those in the dog world. She increasingly finds herself associating with her new compadres, even emulating their actions, freely and without hesitation. And, as a mother, she comes to take on the attributes of a bitch – in all its permutations.

Through this experience, Mother asserts herself in myriad ways – her lack of hesitation in expressing her frustration, her candor in admitting that motherhood isn’t everything it’s said to be, her need to express herself in ways other than being a 24/7 caregiver, and her right to demand that Husband become equally involved in the parenting experience, among others. She even assumes a soap box role that all women who become mothers should have the ability to express themselves when it comes to matters like these if that’s how they really feel and if they choose to vent those emotions if they want to.

These notions may not sit well with dyed-in-the-wool traditionalists. They might also raise feelings of noticeable discomfort among the conflicted who supposedly committed to such a conventional way of life. But, as Mother contends, there’s nothing inherently wrong with women who freely embrace and assert these ideas if they so choose. What does matter, however, is a woman’s right to expect more out of life for herself and to be able to freely express herself about it and then to pursue those interests despite being mothers. It’s certainly accepted that husbands and fathers are free to do so, but why should mothers willingly capitulate to a more limited palette of options? And must they really need to resort to acting like (and risk being labeled) a bitch for doing so?

Mother believes that there’s another way to go about this and uses her experience to explore it, even if it initially calls for such an aggressively assertive approach. But sometimes those kinds of actions are needed to get the ball rolling, to open the door to new possibilities and new beliefs that support them. That’s crucial in light of the role that our beliefs play in the manifestation of the existence we experience. Mother and her female and canine cohorts may not have heard of this school of thought, but, if they (or any of us) hope to invoke change in our realities, altering our beliefs may be the starting point where we initiate the process to realize the new and more fulfilling results that we seek.

For starters, Mother needs to determine what she wants for herself as an individual and where motherhood fits into that picture, and that’s where her beliefs come into play. Perhaps most importantly, she needs to recognize that motherhood is part of who she is, not the be-all-and-end-all determiner of her being or character. She’s indeed more than just the chief cook and bottle washer. But, given the societal pressure placed upon women to be relegated to a conventional expression of this concept, can she muster the strength, confidence and wherewithal to move beyond that limited, restrictive view?

If the answer is “yes,” then she needs to put beliefs into place reflective of that notion. In Mother’s case, she must be able to assert herself to insist that she can be just as much a working artist as she is a caregiving parent. In turn, she must also insist on having the means to be able to carry out these objectives. This can involve a variety of undertakings, such as making sure that Husband understands his need to pull his share of the weight in raising their son – specifically the notion that his “job” doesn’t stop at the end of the day any more than hers does. She need not be nasty or confrontational in achieving this, but she does need to be clear, direct and emphatic that her needs and wants extend beyond those of being a mother alone.

In carrying out this process, it would also be in Mother’s best interests in coming to understand everything involved in the nature of motherhood, something that often goes unrecognized and wholly overlooked. For instance, at one point, Mother goes into a monologue about the potentially inherent dangers involved in assuming this role, particularly in the act of giving birth. It’s a tremendous responsibility, one with innate risks, including everything from the searing pain of passing a whole new person through the constrictions of one’s loins to the potential for tremendous physical damage (especially if a procedure like a Caesarean section must be performed) to even the possibility of death during childbirth. Such conditions call for tremendous personal fortitude and courage, qualities that women should recognize and embrace – and be able to tap into for themselves in other ways in their lives, especially when it comes to seeking the fulfillment of individual satisfaction.

To that end, Mother continues, this calls for women to appreciate that they are intrinsically powerful beings – gods, in fact – who are capable of tremendous creative potential. Indeed, if women can do something as significant as create a new life, think of what other possibilities are open to them – provided that they allow themselves to access and execute them. Again, this is something directly tied to their beliefs – most notably, their beliefs in themselves.

 It’s somewhat ironic that the traditional view of motherhood often gets in the way of women being able to experience these opportunities, especially when the expanded perspective of this concept is itself responsible for making these additional acts of creation and expression inherently possible. Were one to look upon the intrinsic qualities of “motherhood” from this standpoint, one might see how many doors this notion can actually open up. It truly goes beyond just making sure there’s an adequate supply of Huggies in the house. That’s a creatively fulfilling destiny that’s open to all women – and one that shouldn’t be passed up just because one has children.

“Nightbitch” is an insightful treatise on what this kind of “dog-ged” determination can make possible, as long as one is willing to examine it, formulate beliefs around it and put it into everyday practice. And director Heller accomplishes this through a multifaceted discourse on the subject, one that offers diverse realizations about it that some may find challenging to sort out but that also carry the promise of and potential for tremendous personal growth and development. In doing so, the film presents an array of both unnerving scenarios, supplemented by a wealth of inventively comedic possibilities. What’s most impressive about this film, though, is its uncompromising honesty in addressing its subject, an approach that yields a realistically revelatory view of the concept of motherhood, one that (as the protagonist so astutely observes) shows it as being about “more than just sunshine and baby powder.” While it’s true that the narrative sometimes tries to cover a little too much ground and doesn’t always link its assorted observations as effectively or cogently as it might have, it nevertheless uncovers the heartfelt beliefs that some women sincerely hold about being mothers, outlooks that the blinder-clad Pollyannas among us might consider inconceivable or even heretical despite their intrinsic candor and viability.

Credit the authenticity behind this to the filmmaker and to Adams, who turns in yet another stellar portrayal, one that earned her Golden Globe and Independent Spirit Award nominations for best lead performance. Kudos also go out to McNairy, as well as the two young brothers cast in the role of the son, all of whom provide superb support. To be sure, “Nightbitch” may not appeal to everyone, and some could even find it shocking or blasphemous in some regards. But at least the picture doesn’t try to pull any punches, and there’s much to be said for that given the prevailing naïve and unassailable qualities often associated with the idea of what it’s actually like to be a mom. The film is available for streaming online.

Motherhood is certainly deserving of the credit given to it, particularly in light of the demands it places on those who practice it. However, as this film illustrates, we need to be careful about how readily it’s elevated to unattainable pedestals of sanctimony where criticisms about it dare not be expressed, especially given that many who carry out this role will attest that it’s not always everything light and beautiful that it’s made out to be. To change that view to something more realistic, we need to examine it with a new set of eyes, one through which the beliefs we hold about it are more grounded in the truth than in grand and unachievably naïve terms. This is where the unmasking of motherhood’s true character needs to take place – and for the ultimate betterment of us all.

A complete review is available by clicking here.

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