This is a true story:

My grandmother, Ruth, owned an Oldsmobile for a short time. This was not a new car, infact it was both bought and sold before I was born. Anyway, this particualar (American) car was rather picky about when it would start. The solution was to get out of the car, walk around to the right side and deliver a good hard kick to the front right tire. You could then get back in the car and start it up.
I shit you not

In high school, the auto shop teacher had, what he called, tools of persuasion. The tools were as follows:

There was little that could not be solved with the precision application of these two tools.

If it jams, force it. If it breaks it probably needed replacing anyway.