A surgeon and his assistant wheel a bed with a panda on it into the operating room of a large hospital in Sweden. This is not a flesh-and-blood panda, however, but a mechanical toy. With great concentration, the surgeon starts to operate, painstakingly removing layer after layer of the furry covering followed by the soft filling. While the surgeon searches for the plastic core in the operational innards, the panda doggedly resists its deconstruction. The noises it emits sound more animal than machine-made, reinforcing the absurd nature of this clash between a living being and a machine. The film's calm, serious, observational style invites us to consider a number of current cultural issues. What is the difference between man and the technology he designs? To what extent are our flesh-and-blood bodies becoming technological bodies? And if, at some point in the future, we all have a technological body, will the operations of the future be like this one, on this pitiably whimpering panda? These are questions artist Tove Kjellmark also addresses in her other work.