Once upon a time there was a film called The Collector which starred a young, pre-transvestite Terence Stamp as a youth who spirits away the object of his obsession, Samantha Eggar, to the remote English countryside where he breaks down her will. Eventually she learns to love him —then turns the tables when he least expects it. It was a fine movie fraught with the kind of sexual tension that was eeking forth from the dawn of the "free love" era. In other words, it was all verbal, and Samantha Eggar would have to wait to flash her hooters until another time.

Imitation being the sincerest form of flattery and all that, Object Of Obsession (or, to make matters less confusing, OOO) is an imitative yet sincere spin on the Collector theme. But in OOO, hooters abound. Not big hooters, mind you, but the delicious Bartlett pears of Erika Anderson, who plays a horny yet sensitive 90's woman. Erika frequents singles bars looking for Mr. Goodbar, but instead ends up meeting Mr. Nut Bar, Scoot Valentine.

Like any good captor, he drugs her, locks her in a Spartanly decorated warehouse, bathes her, and makes frequent love to her by candlelight. And, in the typical post "free love" era of cinema, he brings home other sexual partners for them to share. Valentine is a doting lover/kidnapper; apparently so expert with his pork sword that he's able to leave the doors open without fear that she'll bolt. That is, until Erika finds the videos of his previous lover/slaves! And that, as they say in polite society, is when the horse exhaust hits the rotary blades.

Director Hippolyte and cinematographer Wally Fister continue their fine association with another erotic "lacquer-dipped" thriller that's easy on the eyes and hard on the kinky side. Although the viewer may be able to reach amore satisfactory climax than the screenwriter's managed here, OOO is quality erotica for the cable connoisseur.