I Hate My Body

Ernest, an unvirtuous but successful engineering exec, is transported to a hospital following a fiery road accident. Though clinically dead, his brain remains functional, and an ill-advisable decision is made by the staff sugeon(implied to have previously performed experimental procedures under the aegis of the SS). Ernest will be reported deceased, and his brain will be transplanted into the head of an attractive young female named Leda, who has recently passed on. The operation is carried out successfully, but kept clandestine. Ernest must learn to live in harmony with "his" new flesh. This proves a most difficult encumbrance, however, as "he" retains "his" male sexual urges, and simultaneously finds that the female experience in a male-dominated world is fraught with more difficulties and frustrations than he'd ever imagined...employment opportunities are limited, and rest with "her" willingness to "put out". "Leda" ultimately devises a plan to extort money from Ernest's widow, who has collected on her presumed dead husband's hefty life insurance policy.

Sleazy and thoroughly illogical, I HATE MY BODY reduces a very workable core concept to flyspeck with its sensationalistic, exploitative handling. Similar foundations had been explored somewhat more tactfully in CHANGE OF MIND(1969), with pertinency to race issues. While that film was admittedly mediocre, it at least showed some rectitude in addressing sensitive sociopolitical issues. I HATE MY BODY had as much opportunity, but squandered it on a Fescennine procession of tawdry toings-and-froings, knavishly feigning a purposeful pro-feminist credo.

Not one of director Klimovsky's more shining efforts, but I'd be lying to say I didn't find it somewhat shamefully gratifying.

5/10.