Nightbitch does more than explore motherhood. It celebrates body hair.
Marielle Heller’s Nightbitch tackles the feral nature of motherhood, with her protagonist Mother (Amy Adams) physically transforming before our very eyes, taking on more than a few canine features. Adapted from Rachel Yoder’s novel, Nightbitch encapsulates the animalistic rage felt by mothers living in a patriarchal society.
The movie deftly navigates the ways in which women are subjected to misogyny in their early days of motherhood (and beyond). Adams depicts a woman in crisis as she parents a toddler, slowly admitting to the loneliness and shame she feels — something her mostly absent Husband (Scoot McNairy), who makes an artform of weaponised incompetence, fails to understand.
But there are other hugely revolutionary things about Nightbitch. Notably, how it depicts and dismantles taboos and shame around women’s body hair, as well as the reality of women’s bodies when it comes to motherhood, menstruation, and everything else the female body miraculously creates and endures.
Nightbitch gets real about body hair
Early on in Nightbitch, we see Mother discover long hairs on her chin while looking in the mirror. She doesn’t recoil in repulsion at a very natural hormonal reaction — as society would have her do — she accepts it as part of her new reality. It’s refreshing to watch. Representative of both a literal and figurative shift from woman to dog (Mother also grows a tail, gleefully pulling it from a boil), the scene also shows an acceptance of women growing body hair and rolling back the damaging societal assumption that most women don’t encounter it. Writer and director Heller told the Guardian she wanted to show a “euphoria” to the transformation, while Adams described the depiction as showing “this radical acceptance of change” — and that she grew her own “whiskers” for the role.
This kind of healthy, empowering representation of facial hair on screen is crucial when it comes to normalising it for women, particularly younger generations and those with polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) where excess body hair growth is common – research says it affects 80 percent of women with PCOS.
The importance of showing body hair on screen
For Rachel Morman, a trustee of UK PCOS charity Verity, moments like these on screen could be a revelation for women, particularly for those with PCOS, and “encourages people to rethink their perceptions and prejudices.”
“Portraying a natural and common experience like chin hair growth can be powerful and validating as it brings a typically hidden or shamed aspect of their lives into the light,” she tells Mashable. “Anything that can be done en masse helps to normalise the conversation and demonstrates that body hair is a normal part of the female experience.”
I certainly wish I’d seen this kind of body hair representation on screen when I was first diagnosed with PCOS in my mid teens. I felt self conscious of body hair that I didn’t know was actually quite common. In my 20s I kept the laser hair removals I paid for a secret from friends because I thought I was the only person whose body was having that kind of reaction to my PCOS. Body hair is still taboo enough as it is, excessive amounts due to a hormonal condition like PCOS comes with all kinds of stigma and shame. Seeing Adams with hair on her chin, later discovering she grew it herself for a role, as well as the accepting reaction her character has to this “transformation” felt like an overdue liberation from what society says I should look like and an embrace of the reality of women’s body hair.
Seeing Adams with hair on her chin, later discovering she grew it herself for a role…felt like an overdue liberation…
Of course, PCOS advocates such as Harnaam Kaur have been speaking out for years about the importance of embracing facial hair. At the age of 16, Kaur stopped shaving her facial hair and chose to embrace it — and has been championing love and self-acceptance when it comes to body hair, and women’s bodies more widely, since.
She tells Mashable that representation on screen is crucial for constructing a more authentic attitude towards women’s body hair, with the current narrative leaving many with PCOS feeling misunderstood and out of place.
“Representation of body hair on screen is about telling honest, human stories,” Kaur says. “For those with PCOS, it can shine a light on lived experiences that are often overlooked, fostering understanding and empathy. By breaking the silence around these realities, we empower people to feel seen and valued.”
She adds that showing diversity of body hair on screen, like in Nightbitch, will help to break down damaging expectations around femininity. “The stigma around women and body hair, especially for those with PCOS, often comes from standards that tell us what’s ‘feminine’ or ‘acceptable’. This creates a lot of unnecessary shame, as if having body hair makes someone less worthy or less womanly.”
Above all, Kaur says, representation of body hair on screen “reminds us all that there’s nothing to be ashamed of, and that’s incredibly powerful”.
Hollywood’s history of hairless women
Of course, when it comes to body hair on screen, we are fighting the most acute of Hollywood beauty standards, ones that remain despite decades of feminist resistance. There has always been stigma, outrage and sometimes “scandal” around showing women’s body hair on screen. Sophia Loren embraced armpit hair in the ’50s, Grace Jones in the ’70s. Julia Roberts appeared at Notting Hill’s 1999 movie premiere with armpit hair and it was deemed “scandalous”. Many actors, musicians, and celebrities have resisted Hollywood body hair conventions. Within films themselves, we have seen some progress — like Adams, Salma Hayek grew out her own moustache when playing the role of Frida Kahlo, while Kate Winslet and Rooney Mara both wore merkins (a public wig), in The Reader and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo respectively, to better embody their character.
Discourse around body hair on screen is definitely more visible and spirited than it used to be, with many calling out representations that don’t feel true to them. For instance, Emma Stone’s Poor Things body characterisation was criticised due to her cleanly shaven legs and neatly trimmed pubic hair throughout, despite the fact that the film centres around her character’s sexual liberation and rejection of societal expectation around women’s bodies and behaviour.
But unlike Nightbitch, the majority of movies still subscribe to the Western ideal of what a woman should look like — which, currently, is largely hairless. And the shame around it, and pressure to remove it, runs deeply to all those who feel subscribed to white, cisgender beauty standards. What we see on screen directly impacts how we see ourselves, and what we expect of ourselves when it comes to beauty standards. So it’s never been more important to champion the movies, directors, and actors that step outside of that to show a more authentic portrayal of women’s bodies.
Nightbitch’s portrayal of menstrual blood also hits back at taboos
Alongside the film’s inclusion of body hair, Heller also includes an authentic, refreshing depiction of menstrual blood in Nightbitch, during a scene where Mother is in the shower. She is taking some long overdue time to herself when her Husband interrupts to ask her why there’s no milk in the house — as if it’s her job alone to supply it. She quickly retorts that he should go to the shop, especially as she’s about to bleed and will need sanitary products, and the camera pans to menstrual blood running down her legs in the shower. This portrayal was a deliberate decision made by the director in order to “normalise” its representation on screen. In her directorial debut, The Diary of a Teenage Girl, Heller also showed hymen blood on screen after her protagonist Minnie (Bel Powley) has sex for the first time. Heller spoke at the time about period or hymen blood not being met with “shock or shame or disgust”.
In recent years, we’ve seen period blood on screen feature slightly more heavily. Michaela Coel’s I May Destroy You sees her character Arabella’s sexual partner remove both a used tampon and a blood clot, reacting with curiosity instead of disgust. We also see Anya Taylor-Joy’s The Queen’s Gambit protagonist Beth flee to the bathroom from a chess match with menstrual blood running down her leg. Portrayals of period sex are also on the up, explored in 2024 movie Babes and the adaptation of Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women. The fact that it’s been present in horror movies for a longer stretch, though — think Carrie and Ginger Snaps — may feed into the narrative that menstrual blood is something to be afraid of.
The complaints and controversy that have frequently followed period blood being shown on screen reflects the misogynistic attitudes that remain around women’s bodies. For example, an advert for Wuka period pants received hundreds of complaints after broadcasting a similar scene to Nightbitch that included blood clots and menstrual bleeding in the shower.
Just like with its choices around portraying body hair, normalising menstrual blood on screen works to “break down centuries of silence and shame surrounding menstruation” according to Morman. She adds that it means something even more to women with hormonal conditions such as PCOS.
“For women with PCOS, who may face irregular or heavy periods, this representation is particularly meaningful and validating,” she says. “Showing menstrual blood in a matter-of-fact way also helps educate audiences, challenging the idea that periods are something to hide. This openness can lead to greater empathy and understanding, encouraging conversations about conditions such as PCOS.”
In a world where I’ve been made to feel anxious, ashamed and lesser because of body hair that is out of my control and due to a hormonal condition that affects one in every 10 women and deserves more awareness, having acceptance and representation for women like me through scenes in a Hollywood movie like Nightbitch means a lot. I hope it is only just the beginning when it comes to seeing better diversity of bodies on screen, as well as the reality of women’s bodily functions.
“Normalising body hair and the realities of women’s bodies on screen has the potential to empower all women by breaking down oppressive beauty standards,” Morman agrees. “Ultimately, this shift in representation can help create a culture where we feel free to embrace our natural bodies, leading to improved mental health, self-esteem and ultimately quality of life.”
