Le syndrome chinois

This is *not* a great film about nuclear power. It plays too fast and loose with reality for that--especially in a cringe-inducing scene where two scientists describe the consequences of a reactor accident. The catastrophic damage they describe is (even opponents of nuclear power would agree) a worst-case scenario, not the inevitable result of a breakdown in the reactor cooling system. Three-Mile Island suffered such a breakdown, and the surrounding "area the size of Pennsylvania" remained habitable.

That said, this *is* a great (and surprisingly subtle) film about complex technological systems, how they fail, and how the organizations that manage them go awry. Subtle? Well: 1) Jack Godell, the whiste-blowing hero, is a flawed and self-doubting normal human being rather than a crusader in shining armor; 2) His co-workers at the plant (as opposed to the "suits" they work for) are sympathetic working-class guys who gripe (as does everybody now and then) about burdensome government regulations and the clueless public; 3) The flaws in the plant are subtle, not glaring. The film, in other words, plays a lot fairer than you'd expect given its reputation (and pedigree).

Does this film have a definite whiff of late-70s, post-Watergate America about it? Sure. Does it have a political edge? Yes. For all that, though, it's still (sadly) relevant--our technology, and the people who are supposed to make it work, still fail us. See the movie, then skim the recent (August 2003) report on the Columbia disaster; the more things change. . .

Centrally focused on the nuclear power industry, James Bridges's film contains a subtext indicting the news media, particularly television. His story leaves no room to doubt that there is a nexus between the moguls of the two industries which influences the way stories are, first, treated and, secondly, presented.

He may exaggerate to make his point, but he makes it so prominent that its place cannot be overlooked in examining the whole of the film.

Bridges also knows Hitchcock's trick of frustrating the audience with the passage of time. When Kimberly's crew is waiting at a public hearing for Jack to arrive with evidence, the performance of the enviro-protesters with their neat clothes, neat black gags and silent protest is as excruciating as nails scraping a blackboard. The audience is more anxious than the characters for an arrival to put an end to it.

As someone who lives a sneeze away from TMI, I can tell you how this movie was received in my area...people were terrified.

The administrators at TMI were hardly forthcoming about the situation. Some of the advice we got now seems laughable; I was in HS at the time, and for our protection, the teachers closed all the windows...wow. My one social studies teacher went to see the movie, and when they got to the part about the meltdown destroying an area the size of PA, he said that people started screaming.

So this movie is pretty surreal for me; it seems that it was only dumb luck that kept the plant from a meltdown. Every now and then I drive past it, and it still seems as sinister as it did then. Watching "The China Syndrome" seemed like watching the local news.

70's Hollywood made so many great contemporary political thrillers like "The Parallax View", "Three Nights Of The Condor", "All The President's Men" to name but three, but this one at the end of the decade I'd somehow missed. Of course everyone will know about the coincidence of the Three Mile Island incident which occurred within days of the film's original release which gave it instant topicality and of course gave it a commercial boost, but subsequent nuclear-related disasters at Chernobyl and Fukishama mean that the movie's relevance doesn't diminish as time goes by.

All of that would be of no matter unless it wasn't a cracking good film which it certainly is. It's superbly cast for one thing not only with a dream-team of Lemmon, Fonda and Douglas in the main roles (all garnered deserved Oscar nominations for their work) but it's also well cast in the supporting roles too. The plot is convincingly believable at almost every stage with only the somewhat contrived melodramatic climax slightly at odds with what had gone before.

The film makes telling points about corporate greed over safety considerations still relevant in every walk of business today, but also confronts the limits of free speech and obviously, the debate on the use of nuclear power as an energy source in today's society, but at a more basic level it's just a top-class thriller which ratchets up the tension throughout.

The acting just couldn't be better, Fonda is convincing as the lightweight "feel-good spot" TV reporter who scents a real story for the first time, Douglas as the rule-bending maverick camera-man desperate to get the story out there and Lemmon in one of his last great roles as the company man whose loyalty is tested by his own conscience when he becomes aware of the cover-ups at the plant.

Sure the fashions and depicted technology to name but two elements are dated as only a film set in the 70's can be, but the message of the movie combined with its entertainment value easily transcends these to deliver a taut, exciting and thought-provoking film which was one of the best of, in my opinion, a great decade for Hollywood movie-making.

"The China Syndrome" is perhaps the first horror film that is not necessarily following the rules of the genre. It takes place in the contemporary '70's, and features people in the normal profession of broadcast television news. But, when a news story about the leakage of nuclear energy breaks; let's just say - there is your monster.

Jane Fonda is absolutely superb as Kimberley Wells, an ambitious Los Angeles reporter relegated only to fluff pieces by her sexist boss (Peter Donat). She wants something juicier, and gets it, in the form of an accident at a nuclear power plant facilitated by Jack Godell (Jack Lemmon with expressions too numerous to count). Her hippie radical cameraman (Michael Douglas, who also produced) photographs the incident without the plant's knowledge and they both agree that public safety is a valid story. The network brass doesn't think so, and soon both Fonda and Douglas are entangled in a web of legalities concerning the tape.

The crux of the film is Lemmon's character. A man torn between loyalty to his company and telling the truth - even in the face of grave consequences. What makes this horror scenario so compelling is that these are true flesh-and-blood people stuck in the most extraordinary of circumstances faced with both a threat of cosmic proportions as well as a human one.

This is a remarkably chilling thriller, and I'm disappointed that it's not taken more seriously (as both art and tract).