THE CHINA SYNDROME, a good, if somewhat overrated 1979 drama about a TV newswoman and her cameraman present at a nuclear plant when some sort of accident occurs. With the help of the plant engineer they begin to unravel a high-level cover-up, plotted by your basic conservative power mongers.

“If the core is exposed for whatever reason, the fuel heats beyond core heat tolerance in a matter of minutes. Nothing can stop it. And it melts down right through the bottom of the plant, theoretically to China. But of course, as soon as it hits ground water, it blasts into the atmosphere and sends out clouds of radioactivity. The number of people killed would depend on which way the wind is blowing. Render an area the size of Pennsylvania permanently uninhabitable, not to mention the cancer that would show up later.”

Timely concerns here, to this day (and, face it, forever) inherently tense stuff, but the package is given such unrelieved stark treatment that it verges on overkill. The tone of everything is so darn heavy it slows the pace down: ten or fifteen minutes worth of cutting of the 122 minutes, and some polish on the periphery would have made this an even more effective message flick. The photography contributes little to the tension level, and apart from Stephen Bishop squawking a title tune at you, a music score is nowhere to be found: Lalo Schifrin or Jerry Goldsmith would have honed the seriousness of it all to a sharper edge. The producer and director nixed a soundtrack and we think they goofed.

The supporting players were carefully chosen for the corporate look and they all fit. James Hampton rates the highest nod among the lot. Third-billed Michael Douglas is fine (he also produced), though his character is almost devoid of appeal.

The picture pretty much belongs to Jane Fonda and Jack Lemmon: both shine with sincerity, and their characterizations are most relatable and involving. Both were nominated in the Best Acting categories, and the Screenplay and Art Direction were also up for statues.

Fate tossed her mane when the film opened just 12 days before the Three Mile Island accident, the irony and fright no doubt helping the film’s $5,900,000 expenditure to be vaporized by returns of $52,000,000.

Directed by James Bridges, who co-wrote the script with Mike Gray, T.S. Brook and Roger Margolis. Co-starring Scott Brady, Peter Donat, Wilford Brimley, Richard Herd, Daniel Valdez, Stan Bohrman and James Karen.

JACK: “What makes you think they’re looking for a scapegoat?”     TED:: “Tradition.”