Rarely does a film portray a state of affairs so accurately that its fictional characters and storylines overwrite the actual historical events that transpired. But cinephile or not, ask any Angeleno what happened during the California Water Wars, and they will likely tell some version of Roman Polanski’s 1974 film Chinatown. Everyone agrees that the film’s fictional dramatization of California water politics has become a part of history as much as, if not more than, the past itself. 

And for good reason; Chinatown is commonly regarded as the best screenplay of all time. Using modern neo-noir camera techniques to capture the beloved elements of a classic detective-noir storyline, the film could certainly sustain its longstanding universal acclaim on its cinematography alone. But what keeps Chinatown alive in our collective consciousness 50 years later is that its central message still rings true: Behind every great fortune, there exists great crime. 

Chinatown conveys this message through a fast-moving storyline depicting Los Angeles public officials and wealthy investors who, motivated by greed and power, lead a secretive effort to siphon water from distant agricultural regions to the city for a profit. Through an exhilarating series of twists and turns characteristic of film noir (think murder, adultery, and fraud– there’s no shortage of gunshots, sex, or opulence in this movie), audiences decode the ugly truth: In California water politics, leadership is corrupt. So long as these officials have money and power, they will exploit the people and resources that they preside over to keep themselves on top. The oligarchy, no matter the actions of the common man, will always win. 

Why was this message relevant in the real world in 1974? And why is it still relevant today?  The answer is that in many ways Chinatown isn’t fictional at all. 

The film’s narrative parallels the real-life story of the Los Angeles Aqueduct. In the early 1900s, as the growing desert metropolis began to outgrow its water supply, a few powerful officials from the Los Angeles Water Company weaseled their way into obtaining water rights to lakes and rivers hundreds of miles away. They did so using tactics similar to those of the villainous characters in the movie. They cheated financially desperate Owens Valley farmers out of their land by buying it for a price that was enticing for the penniless farmers, but not nearly representative of the land’s actual value. Then, they utilized the water rights that they acquired from these bargains for their own financial gain. 

Consider Los Angeles Water Company superintendent William Mulholland. In 1905, he purposefully overestimated the water needs of the city in order to funnel more water from Owens Valley to LA. Then, he secretly allocated the extra water to farming operations in the nearby San Fernando Valley, generating huge amounts of profit for a group of wealthy investors with whom he was allied and leaving rural valley farmers (who had sold them the land) behind in the dust.

This is just one historic example of how a few powerful individuals seized power and riches by commandeering California’s water supply. In Chinatown, the names have been changed, and the events have been reworked and rearranged, but the fundamentals remain the same.  That makes the film’s critique of greed and inequality entirely accurate to what actually happened.

And in some ways, what is still happening. In 2020, rural valley farmers are fighting a losing battle against coastal cities for access to water from the aqueducts and canals constructed in the 20th century. Just as Mulholland did, those with the money and power today get to decide where the water goes, and right now most of it is being funneled straight to Los Angeles. Climate change is only making things worse as drought conditions intensify and water becomes increasingly scarce. Plots of farmland are drying up; yet the grass in Beverly Hills has never looked greener.

Considering these realities, it is clear why Chinatown has such staying power. The film functions as a vehicle for the public’s understanding of what was, and is, in reality, a complex entanglement of private firms, government agencies, small-town farmers, and Los Angeles urbanites. It simplifies the deception, abuse of power, and utter negligence of the early 1900’s water politics to reveal the unjust dynamic between the powerful and the overpowered. Indeed, the film’s message is as universal as it’s critical acclaim.

For this, Chinatown deserves recognition. It’s thematic elements simultaneously entertain and provoke an important question to audiences who might otherwise go uninformed: Who lavishes in the fortunes created by California water, and who are the victims that pay the price?