A richly stylized biopic of larger-than-life automotive entrepreneur Preston Tucker, this Francis Ford Coppola movie revels in 1940’s period trappings as much as in its story. Self-consciously retro, nearly surreal, its characters exist just this side of parody. Still, supercharged perkiness like this is terrifically joyful, and the fact that it tells a remarkable true story makes it much more than a stylistic exercise. That Tucker the entrepreneur fails in the end – spectacularly so – merely increases the fascination of the story. The guy was a real life Tony Stark, reminding us that marvelous endings only happen in the comiks.
Jeff Bridges damn near chews the scenery as the ebullient Preston Tucker, his broad face and booming voice perfect for conveying the undaunted joie de vivre of this pure specimen of entrepreneurialism.
Joan Allen – always great – matches up well to her man here, conveying the pluck and faith that the wife of an entrepreneur must maintain given the “excitement” of an uncertain family business.
Martin Landau comes closest to parody as the – Jewish, immigrant – NY financier, though this consummate professional delivers an ultimately sweet performance.
Most notable amongst the rest of the cast is Lloyd Bridges as “the Senator from Detroit” bent on bringing down the disruptive Tucker. It’s a treat to see Lloyd and Jeff Bridges go at it: adversaries on screen, father and son in real life.
Other notables include a young Christian Slater in one of his first movie roles, coming right before his breakout in Heathers. And don’t forget Dean Stockwell, who delivers an effective cameo as Howard Hughes, one of Tucker’s fellow industrial outlaws.
Characteristically amazing production values – sumptuous costumes, heavenly lighting, extreme camera angles – mark Tucker as a Coppola classic, albeit not in the first rank with The Godfather I and II. Amazingly the subject matter stands up to this über Hollywood treatment: the Tucker Combat car with the Tucker Turret pictured in the WikChip, the gargantuan factory with the heroic Tucker sign atop it, the fantastic Tucker Torpedo cars themselves. These larger-than-life creations meet their match in a filmmaker with Coppola’s brio.
Every entrepreneur should watch this movie as a tutorial on the strengths needed to succeed, the compromises required, and the mistakes to avoid.
Last but far from least: what a great, great, great car the Tucker Torpedo would have been! Sleek, fast, safe, that sucker was decades ahead of its time.
Regarding Wick’s Review
Back-to-back automotive entrepreneur biopics for me. First Flash of Genius, and then Tucker. Neither is great, but both are more than worth watching if, like me, you’re into the entrepreneur as flawed hero thing.