Ten survivors of a nuclear attack on New York bolt into the bomb shelter / basement of their apartment block.
They make up a typical cross-section of the building's residents - a blowhard, chain-smoking superintendent, three loudmouths with attitudes, a wife and her wimpy husband, a woman and daughter - one or the other seems always to be sobbing or screaming, and so on.
Conditions and morale deteriorate way too fast, and yet the film seems to drag.
Tensions mount between the all-too-fractious refugees; bickering over needing to stay locked in underground, the rules established by the self-appointed leaders, about the shortage of food - yet there seems to be an almost inexhaustible supply of cigarettes. It made me wonder whether they wouldn't actually be safer above ground, even if there was nuclear fallout.
Maybe this is what New York, and its denizens are really like. Scratch the surface and they're all ready to tear each other apart.
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