Stars Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep, which, together with the fact that neither Amanda nor I had seen it, is what made it attractive in the menu of Netflix selections available for streaming on our TV.
It begins with the two principals, a political columnist (Nicholson) and a food writer (Streep), neither one of whom ever seems to have to go to work, meeting at a wedding. At the end, they're married, he's been cheating, and she puts a pie in his face at a dinner party, then gets on a plane with their little kids. She is woman, hear her roar.
You might be wondering about the scene in which she discovers he's having an affair. It's at the hair dresser's. The beautician is complaining about her fellow's sorry subterfuges and it all falls into place for the Streep character. She races home, her hair undone, and quickly uncovers irrefutable proof in the center drawer of his desk. What a scoundrel! And she's so likable! Well, of course, the script is by Nora Ephron, and it's based on her autobiographical novel of the same title.
The most interesting thing about the movie is the cultural artifacts. I'd almost forgotten how large phones were in 1986.
