(2 of 2)
Not a bad premise for a mystery. But a premise is only a promise, and The Morning After fails to fulfill it. Jane Fonda is, to be sure, awfully good as Alex Sternbergen, a near-miss movie star now trying to drink her leftover life away. She has the style of such women, a mixture of tough talk and flighty vulnerability, down pat. The stranger who tries to help her is an ex-cop with a blue-collar manner. Underneath, however, he glows with the middle-class spirit of the New Man: he is wise, patient, a good lover and a better cook. As played by Jeff Bridges, he is also a total bore.
Director Sidney Lumet and his cinematographer, Andrzej Bartkowiak, shoot Los Angeles in what they seem to think is a new light but is really imitation Magritte, the kind of thing you can pick up in art galleries where the EVERYTHING MUST GO signs are permanently posted. R.S.
NO MERCY
Critics call this an "O.C." movie; every plot twist is so easy to spot that the only response is "of course." The star (Richard Gere) is a Chicago cop with a dependable partner played by a disposable actor. O.C., the partner gets killed by a visiting New Orleans gangster (Jeroen Krabbe) while keeping tabs on the gangster's moll (Kim Basinger). O.C., the star goes to New Orleans to hunt down the bad guy, gets hassled by the local police and, O.C., falls in love with the moll while they dodge crackers and crocodiles in bayou country. Bullets perforate every bit player in the Vieux Carre, O.C., but keep missing the star. Floorboards creak at propitious moments; tinderbox hotels refuse to go up in flames; heroine watches helplessly as hero and villain fight to the death. O.C., O.C., O.C.
A modest surprise: there is a little meat on these old bones. Screenwriter Jim Carabatsos works efficiently within, rather than against, genre expectations; and Director Richard Pearce (Country) blows the right amount of steam around his characters to create atmosphere; this is the tangiest of the 46 recent movies shot in New Orleans (no, we won't name 'em). Most of the time, Gere and Basinger have their backs to the wall, and it does wonders for their posture if not quite for their performances. Krabbe, though, is a top macho scuzz ball, with his haunting face, menacing whisper and evil ponytail. This stoic, sulfuric Dutch actor helps prove that an O.C. movie, when it plays smartly by the rules, can be O.K. as well. R.C.