Summary
A sun-bleached boardwalk becomes the arena where a gawky tinkerer, equal parts da Vinci and daydreamer, grafts wings, whistles, and whirligigs onto a humble bicycle until the contraption mutates into a brass-and-chrome Pegasus. Marie Mosquini’s flapper astronomer—eyes forever tilted toward comets and calculus—glides past on her own two-wheeler, igniting a cross-town rivalry of velocities and valentines. ‘Snub’ Pollard, rubber-limbed and spring-heeled, pursues her through trolley tracks, past bakeries exhaling vanilla, and into a labyrinthine warehouse of slapstick shadows where every gear becomes a guillotine for dignity. The bike, now a kinetic sculpture, sprouts horns, sirens, and an umbrella that blossoms like a black-hole lotus, sucking every cop, dog, and dowager into its comic orbit. In the final reel the lovers coast out of the city’s sooty iris into a salt-sprayed horizon, leaving behind a metropolis whose heart still ticks to the staccato clank of their disappearing spokes.
Synopsis
