Fast and Furious

An unlicensed sprint through prohibition-era asphalt where a daredevil grease-monkey Al St. John—equal parts Chaplinesque contortionist and gear-grinding shaman—pilots a cobbled-together roadster from dust-bowl nowhere to the Pacific’s edge, outrunning revenue agents, rival barnstormers, and his own checkered past. The narrative is stitched from tire-iron ballets, gasoline-lit reveries, and nickelodeon slapstick: a moonshine run becomes a surreal odyssey of broken axles, roadside carnivals, and fleeting romances that flicker like faulty headlights. Each frame feels hand-cranked, the celluloid breathing soot and jasmine as St. John’s cadaverous grin negotiates hairpin turns between Keystone chaos and elegiac solitude, ultimately crossing the finish line as both phantom and folk hero.