Jay Weatherill insists Holden is worth the billions being poured into its coffers by taxpayers because it is “too big to fail”.

But, of course, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And if Holden falls, much of Adelaide’s north will fall too.

The rhetoric now appears to have moved beyond even “saving” Holden, and into instead guaranteeing some sort of tenure. By this logic, apparently, 10 years is fine, three years not so fine, but you never seem to find anyone willing to contemplate the carmaker hanging around longer than a decade.

As the federal election cycle winds to a close, the Holden bartering cycle is just gearing up; locally, interest in the inevitable post-September 7 post-mortem will be largely subsumed by an imminent decision from the embattled carmaker, which currently sits loftily above the political machinations, unwilling to play favourites. Instead, it’s batting its flirtatious eyelids at both major parties, dangling its ambit claims like a set of hotel room keys.

And don’t think just because the Opposition’s official rhetoric is that it won’t be “chasing Holden down the street with a big cheque” that it won’t be a sucker for the carmaker’s coquettish wiles. No incoming government, however free-marketeering its intent, wants its first order of business to be shutting down an iconic company that employs tens of thousands of people directly and indirectly.

Doesn’t anyone remember Mike Rann during the 2010 state election TV debate, made up to look like a cadaver?

Whether a Federal Liberal Government would care overmuch about helping out its SA branch colleagues is an open question, but its zeal to withdraw Government support hasn’t put Steven Marshall in the most comfortable position either, stuck somewhere between the frying pan of disagreeing with his national leader and the fire of abandoning Holden.

And of course, when you’re determined to traverse the middle of the policy road, you end up getting run over by both sides.

From October, though, we’re likely to see the state Liberal Opposition finally puts its money where its big mouth is on policy, hopefully offering some solutions rather than merely carping from the sidelines. True enough, Marshall has offered a range of ideas that also, conveniently, have the side-effect of putting off any actual decision-making indefinitely. Infrastructure plans will be deferred to an Infrastructure panel, general spending commitments will be reviewed by a state Productivity Commission and, you guessed it, decisions affecting the auto industry will be the purview of an auto industry taskforce.

Politically and ideologically, none of this moves much beyond the notion of an audit commission (or razor gang, in general parlance), a rational enough notion that seeks to independently justify any new or recurrent spending. The problem is, these things take time, and time is ticking for Holden. It remains a slave to the political process, but its own investment decisions will reverberate far beyond the electoral cycle. It’s viable to presume it’s already determined there’s no future in Australia, but if that were so surely Holden wouldn’t have gone through the rigmarole of a new EBA ballot and the charade of Government negotiations and plant inspections by GM top brass.

Perhaps instead it’s biding its time to see if it can wring out more faux-profits from an incoming Government, or even develop a long-term strategy to produce export-ready cars and parts and wean itself off the nurturing taxpayer teat (a less likely scenario).

And all the while the federal fiasco descends into ever sillier territory (patronising compliments betray “the real Tony”, petulant outbursts reveal “the real Kevin” etc). Possibly the biggest lapse of political judgement though goes to the Prime Minister for allegedly being rude to his make-up lady before the People’s Forum. Of all the people not to piss off during a campaign, surely the person charged with making you look presentable for major public appearances would be near the top of the list. Doesn’t anyone remember Mike Rann during the 2010 state election TV debate, made up to look like a cadaver?

The popular consensus as the campaign inexorably spins its way into the political ether is that Rudd is losing momentum and control of his message. His tack appears to have shifted to grassroots, V-neck wearing, soapbox-standing, fiery oratory-spouting posturing in town hall meeting style forums, favoured (successfully) by John Major when he won the unwinnable election in 1992 and (less successfully) by John Hewson when he lost the unlosable election in 1993. If it fails, as polls for now suggest it will, then the fairy tale re-emergence of one of the country’s most incandescent political chameleons will be over, for good this time.

Rudd’s Jekyll-and-Hyde persona has dominated the last six years of national politics, even as a lurking backbencher. His has been the tale of one of the shallowest administrations shrouded in one of the biggest personalities in Australian political history. But the bigger they are…

Tom Richardson is InDaily’s political commentator and Channel Nine Adelaide’s political reporter.