Michael McShane | Through the Shattered Lens

First released in 1988, Tucker: The Man and His Dream is a biopic about Preston Tucker.

Tucker was an engineer in Detroit who went from designing vehicles for the Army during World War II to trying to launch his own car company. His ideas for an automobile don’t sound particularly radical today. He wanted every car to have seat belts. He wanted a windshield that popped out as a safety precaution. He want brake pads and he also wanted a car that looked sleek and aerodynamic, as opposed to the old boxy cars that were being pushed out be Detroit. He wanted a car that got good mileage and he wanted one that could be taken just about anywhere. Unfortunately, Tucker’s dreams were cut short when he was indicted for stock fraud, a prosecution that most people agree was a frame-up on behalf of the Big Three auto makers. Tucker was eventually acquitted but his car company went out of business. Of the 50 cars that Tucker did produce, 48 of them were still on the road and being driven forty years later.

The film stars Jeff Bridges as Preston Tucker, Joan Allen as his wife, Christian Slater and Corin Nemec as two of his sons, Lloyd Bridges as the senator who tried to take Tucker down, Martin Landau as Tucker’s business partner, and Dean Stockwell as Howard Hughes, who shows up for a few minutes to encourage Tucker to follow his dreams regardless of how much the government tries to stop him. One gets the feeling that the film was a personal one for director Francis Ford Coppola, a filmmaker who has pretty much spent his entire career fighting with studios while trying to bring his vision to the screen. Tucker fought for seat belts. Coppola fought for a mix of color and black-and-white in Rumble Fish. Tucker stood up for his business partner. Francis Ford Coppola stood up for Al Pacino when no one else could envision him as Michael Corleone. As is the case with many of Coppola’s films, Tucker: The Man And His Dream is a film that Coppola spent years trying to get made. It was the film that Coppola originally intended to be the follow-up to The Godfather, with Marlon Brando projected for the lead role of Tucker. After watching the Tucker, it’s hard not to feel that it worked out for the best that Coppola was not able to make the film in 1973. It’s impossible to imagine anyone other than Jeff Bridges in the role of Preston Tucker.

“Chase that tiger….chase that tiger….chase that tiger….” It’s a song that Tucker sings constantly throughout the film as the camera spins around him and how you react to Tucker: The Man And His Dream will largely depend on how tolerant you are of Coppola’s stylistic flourishes. Coppola directs the film as a combination of Disney fairy tale and film noir. The opening of the film, with Tucker running around in almost a manic state and excitedly telling everyone about his plans, is presented with vibrant colors and frequent smiles and an almost overwhelming air of cheerful optimism. As the film progresses and Tucker finds himself being targeted by both the government and the other auto companies, the film gets darker and the viewer starts to notice more and more shadows in the background. The moments of humor become less and less and there’s a heart-breaking moment where Martin Landau, in one of his best performances, reveals just how far the government will go to take down Tucker’s company. But, in the end, Tucker refuses to surrender and Jeff Bridges’s charming smile continues to fill the viewer with hope. The film becomes about more than just cars. It’s a film that celebrates all of the innovators who are willing to defy the establishment.

There’s a tendency to dismiss the majority of Coppola’s post-Apocalypse Now films. However, Tucker: The Man And His Dream is a later Coppola film that deserves to be remembered.

Though the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences claim that the Oscars honor the best of the year, we all know that there are always worthy films and performances that end up getting overlooked. Sometimes, it’s because the competition too fierce. Sometimes, it’s because the film itself was too controversial. Often, it’s just a case of a film’s quality not being fully recognized until years after its initial released. This series of reviews takes a look at the films and performances that should have been nominated but were, for whatever reason, overlooked. These are the Unnominated.

The other night, Erin and I started a new Labor Day weekend tradition of watching the 1999 comedy, Office Space.

As we watched Mike Judge’s first live-action film, it occurred to me that Office Space is a film that unites all of my friends. It doesn’t matter whether they work in an office like Peter (Ron Livingston), Samir (Ajay Naidu), or Michael Bolton (David Herman) or if they work in a restaurant like Joanna (Jennifer Aniston) or even if they’re an independent contractor like Peter’s loud neighbor, Lawrence (Diedrich Bader). It doesn’t matter if they would rather be fishing like Peter or watching reruns of Kung Fu like Joanna. Everyone that I know has said that they can relate to Office Space. Everyone has had to deal with a passive-aggressive jerk of a boss like Bill Lumbergh (Gary Cole). Everyone has known a crazy co-worker like the red stapler-obsessed Milton (Stephen Root). Everyone dreads the arrival of consultants like the Bobs (John C. McGinely and Paul Willson). Everyone resents being told that doing the bare minimum is not enough, whether it’s just sitting in your cubicle or wearing 15 pieces of flair. Everyone dreams of sleeping late and not stressing about TPS reports. Everyone dreams of screwing over their company in a way that’s so clever that they’ll never be caught. (And I think everyone secretly knows that they would screw it up by putting a decimal point in the wrong place.) Everyone wants to destroy the oldest and least reliable piece of equipment at work. Everyone wants to feel like they can just announce that they’re going to quit and spend the rest of their life doing what they would do if they had a million dollars.

Considering the fact that the film has now become universally beloved, it’s interesting that Office Space opened to mixed reviews and middling box office. The studio wasn’t sure how to sell a live action film from the director of Beavis and Butt-Head and King of the Hill and many critics focused on the film’s rather loosely-constructed, episodic narrative and overlooked the fact that the film captured all of the small details that drive people crazy about their work. Audiences, though, discovered the film on video and undoubtedly enjoyed watching it after a long day of dealing with their own annoying boss. The film’s star, Ron Livingston, has said that many people have approached him and told him that he inspired them quit their jobs. “That’s kind of a heavy-load to carry.”

For a film that centers around office workers updating data so that computer systems don’t cash in 2000, Office Space has aged remarkably well. Ron Livingston, David Herman, and Ajay Naidu are an instantly sympathetic and likable trio of nerdy heroes. Stephen Root’s panic as he realizes that he will be the only employee not to get a piece of cake remains both poignant and funny. Gary Cole is still the boss from Hell. I still laugh at John C. McGinley’s rage when his praise of Peter as a “straight-shooter with upper management potential” is dismissed by Peter’s boss. We can all relate to Jennifer Aniston’s dislike of flair and her hatred for Brian (Todd Duffey). The jump to conclusion mat would probably be even more popular today than back in 1999.

Of course, Office Space was not nominated for any Oscars. That’s not really a shock. It’s an episodic comedy that was directed by a Texas filmmaker who was, at the time, best-known for a cartoon about two brain-dead teenagers. Obviously, it wasn’t going to be nominated for anything, even though I think more people have probably watched Office Space over the past few days than have watched American Beauty. Oscars aren’t everything, though. Office Space remains both a great work film and a great Texas film.