Dans le Paris des années 30, le jeune Hugo est un orphelin de 12 ans qui vit dans une gare. Son passé est un mystère et son destin une énigme. De son père, il ne lui reste qu’un étrange automate dont il cherche la clé - en forme de cœur - qui pourrait le faire fonctionner. En rencontrant Isabelle, il a peut-être trouvé la clé, mais ce n’est que le début de l’aventure…
Un conte couvrant 70 ans de la vie d'un explorateur naïf, alors qu'il travaille pour gagner assez d'argent pour faire un tour de fusée à pièces dans l'espace.
Helped by her self-made flying mechanical creatures, a young inventor and an enigmatic pint-sized superhero defeat the town bullies and find an unexpected friendship.
Gehr uses a mini-digital recorder to look back on the Machine Age in the form of San Francisco's soon-to-be-shuttered Musee Mecanique. For slightly more than an hour, Cotton Candy documents this venerable collection of coin-operated mechanical toys—including an entire circus—mainly in close-up, isolating particular details as he alternates between ambient and post-dubbed (or no) sound. By treating the Musee's cast of synchronized figures as puppets, the artist is making a show—but is it his or theirs? Gehr's selective take on the arcade renders it all the more spooky. There's a sense in which Cotton Candy is a gloss on the moment in The Rules of the Game when the music-box-collecting viscount unveils his latest and most elaborate acquisition. (It also brings to mind the climax of A.I.: The DV of the future tenderly regards the more human machine of the past.) (J. Hoberman, The Village Voice)