A consistently intelligent (or at least bright), coherently constructed comedy that is on occasion a rather pointed critique of the American education system in the…
If an ordinary person woke up in the morning feeling the way a drunk feels with a hangover, he would call an ambulance and check himself into the emergency room. I'm not talking about your average garden-variety office-party hangover. I'm thinking of one of those mornings when you pick up the phone and somebody says hello and you're stuck for an answer.
That's how Jane Fonda feels in the first scene of "The Morning After." She crawls out of bed and looks in the mirror and sloshes some gin into a glass and wonders about the guy she woke up with. She wonders things like, who is he? She apparently has had a lot of mornings like this. She doesn't realize how bad things really are until she notices the guy has a knife in his chest.
Did she kill him? She knows no cop is going to believe her story, and so she tries to erase all the evidence of her visit - all the fingerprints and blood stains. And then she wanders back out, into the blinding Los Angeles light. And in a shot from high overhead, she looks like a laboratory animal, trapped in some kind of a test.
This feels like the beginning of an extraordinary thriller.