Flash of Genius

This otherwise engaging David vs. Goliath story (much like Francis Ford Coppola's superior Tucker: The Man and His Dream) was unfortunately shot with the unbridled passion of a dumpy Iowa housewife.

The film is based on the true events surrounding Dr. Bob Kearns (Greg Kinnear), professor and inventor of the intermittent windshield wiper, and his over twenty year struggle to vindicate himself and find justice from the American auto makers who stole his invention, called it their own and reaped the profits.

The film's DVD release has some good timing behind it in light of the recent $25 billion bailout for auto makers and the bankruptcy filing and nationalization of GM.

Sympathy for these monsters should be scarce.

These companies have been screwing over the plebes for generations with designed obsolescence, disregard for environmental concerns, ignoring safety issues, dismissing unsustainable energy concerns and by and large making an absolutely shitty product, wrapping it up in the flag and selling it like crack to the selfish, xenophobic know-nothings of the America firsters. The U.S. car makers have gotten away with aloofness, mistakes and the type of regressive thinking that would bury any other business.

There are more than a few bodies at the bottom of Lake Michigan who introduced un-welcomed improvements to the American auto industry. I anxiously await the day we find out someone built an efficient engine that ran on water back in 1957. Be sure that he and his family were silenced by the "Big Three" toot suit.

Conspiracy theories aside, Kearns' struggle is all too familiar. A wronged individual fighting against the "individual" status of a mega-corporation with boundless resources and time at their disposal to crush truth, fairness and the little man like so much compacted rubbish.

Yet Kearns remains persistent. He turns down huge settlement offers, sees friends turn on him, suffers a nervous breakdown and watches his family come apart. His stubbornness is so great, his obsessive need for an apology so ingrained, that his vengeance becomes both albatross and salvation.

When the film works, it is through Kearns' undaunted prism of decency and moral certainty. When it doesn't, it veers off into melodramatic tangents of familial hardship and non-expository metaphor.

Kinnear is able, if boring, and the film contains few insights or surprises, but there is the added joy of watching the Ford Motor Company get fucked.

And that is always a pleasure.

Welcome to the assembly line, Comrades!