Lumet earns points for starting off with a bang. The movie opens with a haggard Fonda, her feathered hair coming across like a fright wig, rousing out of bed next to a man. She's a little disoriented... who is he? She turns to wake him up, only to find a steak knife jabbed in his chest. But she can't remember the night before! Did she kill the guy? Or is this the most retarded frame-up in the history of cinema?
Continue reading: The Morning After Review