Directed by a Briton and filmed in Australia under the auspices of the UCLA Film, Theater and Television School, this film is a predictable if funny fairy-tale about an average young man who can't get the handsome muscle-boy of his dreams to do anything but spit invective at him. He flees to the bathroom, where he meets a guardian angel who gives him a magic ring. Twist it three times, and you'll turn into the guy your dreamboat wants most.
One, two, three -- and Our Hero has turned into a golden-haired god. But the muscleboy turns out to be a shallow narcissist. Our Hero spits invective at him. But, upon seeing yet another hot guy, Our Hero returns to the bathroom. One, two three -- and Our Hero turns into a woman! "Just like me to pick the only straight guy in the joint."
The film is pretty predictable from here on out. Our Hero turns into Mom, an old sugar-daddy, a leatherman, a rubber fetishist and even Adolf Hitler. Hours pass. With the final twist, Our Hero leaves the bathroom -- but looking just like himself. Oh no: It's two minutes past midnight! The ring has stopped working! Dejected, our hero leaves the club. As he walks past a handsome young man, the man turns to his friend and says, "He's perfect...but he never showed any interest in me."
The few verbal jokes are funny, and the editing works extremely well to present a fast and furious series of sight-gags at the crucial moment.
But the film's moralizing rankles. Is the film saying that handsome men are never nice? Or that fetishes are not attractive? Or that average guys must "stay in your league"? The film is trying to say "be true to yourself." But there are mixed messages here which I find unpalatable, and that diminishes the film after the series of effective sight-gags.
Also of note: Excellent cinematography and a terrific soundtrack.
