Bolt, a British linguist, develops a universal language, so he's a sudden sensation and receives a Nobel prize. An ambitious diplomat, capitalizing on Bolt's celebrity, arranges for the U.S. to commission a statue for a London square to honor Bolt's achievement. Bolt's Italian wife, a renowned artist, sculpts an 18-foot nude of Bolt. In a pique, because he's neglected her for years to do his work, she gives the statue a spectacular phallus, telling Bolt that he wasn't its model. Thinking he's a cuckold, Bolt goes on a jealous search for a man matching the statue. The diplomat, too, wants changes in the statue to protect his conservative image. Can art and love reconcile?

"The face was his... the body was his... but suddenly — hello "Charlie""