If I were to make a film about the power of dreams, I doubt I would start with a real-life story of a dreamer who ultimately failed because he had nothing BUT dreams. But as a film, Tucker: The Man and His Dream works very well. It works neither because of nor in spite of whom Preston Tucker really was, but because he has been remade in the film to represent something larger--the postwar optimism that buoyed the nation for nearly two decades after the end of WWII. Lucas and Coppola were smart enough to realize that the factual story would resonate poorly with a late-20th-century audience if presented in a documentary style. So they skillfully crafted a tale that effectively communicates the real story, but does so behind the veil of fable.<br /><br />How this was done is a triumph of film-making technique. Rather than monkey around too much with the relevant (and ultimately disheartening) facts of the Tucker Motor Company's short existence, Lucas and Coppola took all the incidentals of the filmthe characters, the subplots, the sets, the costumesand skewed, streamlined, generalized and idealized them to the point of subtly but clearly communicating the filmmakers' intent that this be viewed as a morality play, not an historical account.<br /><br />The resulting film is visually and aurally gorgeous. The lush sets, rich, saturated colors and dramatic cinematography would border on hackneyed and cliché if they depicted any other era, but here they lovingly reinterpret the feel of '40s Hollywood dramas, meshing the film's message perfectly with the historical setting. A fantastic score by former-punk-rocker-turned-orchestral-arranger Joe Jackson artfully gives '40's swing a punchy, forceful modern makeover that helps keep the whole retro package accessible and enjoyable for modern viewers.<br /><br />Looking back, it may seem odd that unbridled enthusiasm such as Tucker's was so pervasive as the nation reeled from the horrible reality of World War II and came to grips with its cold war legacy. Perhaps America HAD to be optimistic; the fragile ability to hope and dream was indispensable therapy. Like Tucker's, everyone else's dreams of a forever-improving world would crash by the end of the disillusioned, turbulent '60s. Tucker: The Man and His Dream is a very agreeable way to forget the past we KNOW and discover a more visceral history we can FEEL.