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To Live and Dike in L.A.
An interesting departure from the typical disaster movie where a lone scientist warns but is ignored until the action rescue scenes, this is film noir tale of impending doom.
In 1947, a private eye learns that a dam protecting the major Metropolitan LA area was built by crooked contractors, with sub-par materials, by cheap Lithuanian labor and could go at any minute.
But he just lost a kidnapping case when cops screwed up the exchange, a kid was killed, his wife and girlfriend left him (for each other), his mob contact and cop contact shot each other, and his screenplay was turned down by the fourteenth studio. So, is he going to warn anyone? Or just say fuck it?
Movie ends with him in his dark office (oh, yeah, his electricity was cut off for non-payment, too), with nothing on his desk but a phone and a bottle of bourbon. Flips a coin. "Tails." He takes a drink.
Flips again. "Tails." Takes a drink.
Flips again. Looks at the coin. Bitter laugh as we fade to black.