THE ASCENT

An action-packed, cinema-ready debut thriller.

Kurt Argento is an ex-cop from Detroit with a stubborn, uncompromising sense of justice and formidable street-fighting skills. Having lost his beloved wife and—see "stubborn, uncompromising" above—recently his job, he heads south and west in his pickup, alone in the world but for his dog. When, at a small-town carnival in Missouri, he sees a young girl enticed into trouble by a pedophile, he intervenes, only to end up, when the perpetrator turns out to be the corrupt sheriff's brother, beaten and in custody. Because of overflow in the local jail, Kurt—who's given a false name and hasn't mentioned being ex-police—is moved to a nearby for-profit maximum-security prison. As he's booked in, all hell breaks loose: Either by glitch or by plan, the computerized lock system goes haywire, unlocking about half of the doors, and the guards—a skeleton crew because it's July 4—quickly either seek shelter or are overwhelmed. After saving a nurse from sexual assault, Kurt encounters a private tour group consisting of a terrified assistant warden, two people who are clearly security officers, and a young woman who turns out to be the governor's daughter, a graduate student doing a discreet site visit for research. They realize that their only hope of escape, in the short time before the whole computer system fails and every door springs open, is to make their way up six floors, each filled with more fearsome inmates than the last, to the roof. If this sounds formulaic, it is; if it sounds like a recipe for steadily escalating mayhem, it is; if you think you know where it's headed, you do. But it's also pulse-pounding, cleverly plotted, fast-paced, expertly made entertainment.

A meat-and-potatoes thriller, sure—but they're delicious meat and potatoes.