L.A. Confidential capped off a trilogy of films with stunning twists for Kevin Spacey, following The Usual Suspects and Seven. Here he plays slick detective Jack Vincennes, who investigates a seemingly random series of murders in 1950s L.A that has links to corruption in his own department. This case offers him a chance for some personal redemption and to prove his worth as a cop, and when he makes some critical headway he drives to the house of amiable police Captain Smith. Jack reveals all he knows about the case and how he's onto a big lead, which could reveal some ugly truths about their department. Smith nods, grateful for the information as he hands Jack a cup of delicious tea, and then shoots him in the chest. The stunned Vincennes just has time to register Smith's betrayal as he dies, but manages to get revenge by giving Smith a false piece of info he knows will raise flags with fellow detective Guy Pearce. While in many ways a noble send off for the character and underlining the theme of how corrupt the world of the film really is, it's the sheer unexpectedness of it that catches you off guard. No lead up or warnings, it just happens and it hits like a gut punch. And it's yet another lesson that just because an actors name is first in the credits that doesn't mean he'll be around till the end.
