During World War II, an American bomber pilot is rescued after drifting at sea aboard a raft. After being administered truth serum, he tells the doctor a story of how he and the three survivors of his plane crash washed up on an island that was inhabited by a tribe of beautiful primitive cave-women, dinosaurs and a group of savage cavemen who are bent on abducting the women for breeding purposes.

Bill Cannon (Dan Duryea) loses everything to alcohol: his job, his family, his self-respect. Soon after his wife and daughter leave him, he receives word his little girl has been injured in a car accident outside Chicago. His wife will call later with news, but Bill’s short the $53 he needs to keep his phone from being disconnected. Filled with anguish, he heads out onto the Los Angeles streets to find some way to come up with the cash. As his character encounters expected cruelty and unexpected kindness, Duryea takes what might have been mere melodrama and turns it into a perceptive examination of one shattered soul. The other fine star of this race-against-the-clock programmer is an unglamorous, lunch-bucket L.A. rarely captured on film.