Thrill

So the characterizations are less than riveting, the romance corny and the pool of suspects lamentably lean. All is redeemed by the electric pacing and by the real star of the show, a treacherous wooden hellride of a rollercoaster called the Thrill, which is being resurrected in an amusement park near San Francisco. After a fatal accident, the ride is closed and rebuilt, made safer, reinforced. The cast is right out of a 1970s disaster movie: the pretty and spunky fairground worker; the engineer brought from Chicago to oversee the repairs; the ride fanatic chosen to take the maiden voyage of the new Thrill; the slob of a maintenance man; the tormented genius who built the original ride and hates the modifications. Byrne (Mannequin) conjures up few surprises in his tale, as two folks fall in love, one guy goes off the deep end and another gets a couple of slugs in his fat gut. But he scares us rigid with the scenes in the air, as the new Thrill is tested and re-tested for the Fourth of July park opening, as security is beefed up and as a nameless nut with a gun prepares for the final scene, in which all hell breaks predictably loose. (July)