“Caterpillar” presents itself as a gay man’s documentary journey of self-discovery, when it’s really about body dysphoria/dysmorphia and faddish cosmetic surgery taken to its extreme.

David Taylor, a Miami hairdresser is biracial, wrestling with a troubled childhood, acceptance and obsessive dissatisfaction with the way he looks. He dotes on his mother as he suggests something he’s about to do to improve his “confidence,” “feel good about myself” and change the trajectory of his life.

But his tolerant “in her way” mother lets him know that she gave birth to a “good looking man,” and no “cutting” of any sort will be tolerated. No “cut your penis” removal, no “boobs,” nothing like that. This hurts his feelings, but that’s not what he has in mind anyway.

David wants Avatar eyes.

There’s a company — BrightOcular — in India doing these implants that give recipients other-worldly eye colors. It’s a natural place for this sort of sketchy “cosmetic” short-cut, being a nation that worships beautiful pop stars and actors, many of whom have otherworldly bright eyes — most of them gifted on them since birth — and a country barely removed from Third World standards for medical oversight.

David buries himself in social media endorsements and online ads — this or that “influencer” who’s traveling there to have this “totally safe” procedure done, giving them “those beautiful eyes that will hypnotize.”

David and others from all over the world plead for the chance to have this done, and when he somehow is offered this service “free,” in exchange for online endorsements, he meets men and women from many cultures and races also anxious for this “life changing” surgery.

A Jamaican New York Princess complains of the hard life that led up to her free-spending present day.

“What can I be content with? Just MORE!”

An underwear model (male) and women who have had botox, dental — Go to BRAZIL. “It’s just the best!” — and other “work” done burble away at this latest thing they consider “worth the risk.”

The medical consultations in India, which our filmmaker sits in on, are blunt.

“This is just fashion,” an opthomalogist warns. And there are side effects. “Your vision is more important than what we are doing here.”

Some years back, NPR slipped a “hot new trend in LA” fake story in one of its April Fool’s Day news programs. “Belly button removal is all the rage,” they lied, for laughs. The next day I had colleagues at the major newspaper where I worked come up and gush about the hoax, with even the native Angelinos on staff who’d heard it convinced it was real.

That’s kind of what we’re dealing with here. If you can imagine it as something people would pay to “improve” their appearance and be among the first to plunge into a fad, “influencers” gay and straight — narcissists to a one — will happily and heedlessly plunge right in.

Filmmaker Liza Mandelup had near total access to David’s self-absorbed life and even films the surgery. But the fact that the implant mill is popping three patients in adjacent chairs in the same operating room speaks volumes. David may need to learn the Hindu translation of “F-around and find out.”

Our central character goes through fresh trauma, adds tattoos and goes through changes of hair color and scenery on his way to a new David. Is any of this what it takes to improve his life? Are those alien Avatar eyes a game changer? Guess.

The characters are exactly what you expect them to be — superficial, vapid, not the brightest bulbs but each a tragic heroine or hero of their own narrative. David owns up to being “my own worst enemy” in the opening credits and never transitions from needy, impulsive and “image” obsessed to anyone who wouldn’t irritate the hell out of even his most tolerant friends.

Two hours with him in a film of this cringy, dubious “fashion” procedure served up with “No problem/What are you worried about?” Indian-accented salesmanship to dopes gullible enough to endure it is cinematic eye abuse in its own right.

Rating: graphic eye surgery sequences, profanity

Cast: David Taylor

Credits: Directed by Liza Mandelup. A Good Deed Entertainment release.

Running time: 1:51