HNIFF 2023
Morning After
Directed by Elijah Nelson Chandler · United States · 21 min · long short · narrative
"When a wild night ends rubbing shoulders with the LA mob, a directionless college grad has to get his friend out of danger, or it’ll be her blood on the streets next." This is a proof of concept short film attached to a feature script.
This film's screening window has ended.
From the director
"Morning After" was born out of the existential dread I felt after moving to Los Angeles in my early twenties. Like many aspiring artists, I arrived wide-eyed and idealistic, only to be met with an industry and culture that often felt jaded, transactional, and emotionally hollow. It wasn’t just about struggling to find work, but struggling to find meaning, connection, and identity in a city that often rewards surface over substance. That internal disillusionment became the emotional foundation of this film.
I found myself constantly questioning if sensitivity was a weakness in a place that seemed to reward detachment. Henry, the protagonist, embodies that conflict. He’s deeply empathetic and romantic to a fault. He wants to do the right thing, to be the rescuer, even when the world around him doesn’t operate on the same emotional currency. His downward spiral is a metaphor for what happens when idealism crashes into reality, and when the need to be needed blinds us to the truth.
What started as a proof of concept became a vessel to explore not just genre and style, but something deeply personal. Morning After is a character-driven noir that uses pulp and aesthetic tropes as a way to dissect emotional repression, projection, and romantic delusion. Destiny, the femme fatale, isn’t just a seductress, but the embodiment of the fantasies Henry clings to, and ultimately, the very thing that destroys him. And Sam, the friend he overlooks, is the one person who sees him clearly—until it’s too late.
Visually, the film embraces black-and-white cinematography and stark lighting to reflect Henry’s fractured psyche. The city of Los Angeles is rendered through a dreamlike haze: a blend of nightclubs, luxury apartments, and the many different streets of LA, from DTLA’s glowing string‑lit 4th and Spring Street under the night sky to the cold, unsteady roads of the warehouse district and South Central. The aesthetic was always meant to mirror the emotional landscape, what we described in early development as “waking up the morning after a mistake, unsure how you got there.” That fog of guilt and romantic confusion permeates every frame.
Ultimately, this film is about the emotional toll of unexamined desire as we ask, "what happens when you mistake codependency for love, fantasy for truth, and empathy for action?" "Morning After" is my attempt to capture the feeling of being lost in a city that doesn’t care if you disappear, and the quiet tragedy of realizing that sometimes, the thing you’re trying to save is what undoes you.
