Tucker: The Man and His Dream

Tucker: The Man and His Dream Imagery

Factories

Tucker is very much a story of the post-WWII manufacturing boom, and we see the American factory shot with an almost religious awe, like a cathedral. The two factories we see are Tucker’s small one next to his home in Ypsilanti, MI and the big one in Chicago, and as Tucker transitions from the first to the second, so we see his transition from the workshop style of building a car to the classic production line. Tucker’s American dream is wedded to these images of factories (made clear by his name in giant, lit-up letters on the Chicago factory), making it clear that when the federal government ultimately strips the Chicago factory from him, it’s really plucking the American dream from one of the biggest dreamers of them all.

The Family

Preston Tucker’s iconoclasm—in the movie as well as in real life—is perfectly captured by that cyclops-esque third headlight that points in the same direction as the front wheels. It’s just so odd and perfectly captures Tucker’s creative whimsy and visionary pragmatism. It also helps us to understand how strange his car was in the post-war period when conformity was increasingly the norm. In the era of mass-produced, identical Leavitt houses, Tucker was building a car with seatbelts, disc brakes, a fuel injection engine, and, yes, a third headlight. He was breaking the mold right when America had no concept of why a seemingly fine mold should get broken.

Drawings

Part of the way we come to understand Tucker’s creative spark throughout the film is by seeing him drawing. We watch him draw the car and, in the courtroom, a little refrigerator just big enough for two milk jugs. Through these, we learn that his brain just does not stop. This works to his detriment during the production process, as the car he intends to build differs from the drawing he initially showed off to his investors.

The Dancers

During the big unveiling event for the Tucker automobile, Preston Tucker naturally highers a line of dancers. These are the most gaudy show of Preston’s ability to dazzle, the same knack that makes him a great salesman and public visionary. He loves a good show, and as the dancers clearly demonstrate, Tucker was perhaps a lot better at putting on that good show and getting glowing publicity than he was at actually operating a functioning business. After all, as the dancers do their number, his car is leaking oil and starting a fire just behind the curtain.