It's "Willard" meets "Christine" in this tale of morbid humanity which is revealed through a lurid sex doll. Ah, the classic story, man is lonely, man meets doll, man loves doll, man romances doll, doll kills anyone who goes near him... well it's not a classic story so much as a weird one. And a damn morbid one. For what the film so gruesomely
observes, many times through objects of random sentimentality we can expose our own inner-subconscious desires and aggressions that we can never explain, and some of the time, this really says something about lack of human communication in which the main character has a better communication with the doll but can't quite fess up his feelings for his work partner whom he models his doll after... or does he?

I really liked the twists and turns constantly posed to us by the makers whom also throw in a sense of "976-Evil" for good measure to add to the mystery of where our doll comes from. I'd see a sequel in which we delve in to the inner mysteries of the sex doll. There's a sentence I never thought I'd write. Either way, in many respects, Robert Parigi observes man's some times sick obsession with sex, and artificial objects, so much so it distances us from real human contact and then we form a sick attachment to the object because of the lack of insecurity and responsibility posed toward it, and value it over human relationships. The film is often very sick with some gruesome moments of sheer torture, and with some brutal graphic violence including the inevitable confrontational climax and presents a rather expected, but still surprising development pointing towards an inevitable sequel with an even lesser known actor for the lead. Regardless, "Love Object" does present some fascinating concepts and ideas that, if further explored, could have been a great homage to Lovecraft.

It's a sex doll. It's a sex doll. It's a fucking sex doll, and we drudge through ninety minutes of it why? Seriously, though, is this not a comedy? Then what is it? And seriously Parigi, you're not fooling anyone, this isn't "Re-Animator", look up at the cover and tell me that isn't a complete rip from the original "Re-Animator" cover. Either way, this is such a goofy film. Goofy, goofy, goofy, and there's padding, and padding, and padding, much like the padding in this review. Either way, the awful directing by Parigi takes what could have been a great concept and throws it in to the trash as we see Harrington struggling to take this role seriously, but watching Harrington in the nude on his knees getting whipped by a doll, and watching Harrington dancing with a doll in a bad dream sequence make it awfully hard to take it seriously, especially when he converses with the doll who is creepy, but ugly as hell.

It was not intended as camp, as can be plainly seen throughout the film, but Parigi doesn't help the situation with the crappy often hazy directing. He attempts to make himself out as Stuart Gordon, but really just ends up looking a fool and makes its stars look a fool in the process. Whether it be from the brutally derivative tale of an outcast seeking friendship through the monotony of his sterile work place ala "Willard" (Parigi confuses sterile with dim and barely coherent), through his bonding with an inanimate object that eventually turns from friend to foe, and there's even the loud mouthed useless boss which is so humbly played by Rip Torn who chews the scenery, vomits it, slurps it up with a straw, and craps it back down. Torn has but a little role requiring him to play the boss and does nothing with the role basically just coming back in to the movie every ten minutes to proclaim the obvious "boss" one-liners and has nothing to do, but man does he scream those one-liners.

For a film with such a fascinating concept worthy of a film that observes and breaks down the concept. And sure, it's low budget but why not use that to further examine instead of throwing so much crap at us, so Parigi does so with weird and goofy sequences, and bad special effects for the doll, and just terrible acting from one and all. Ultimately, Parigi presents some great ideas and concepts but never uses them. Under the right people, this could have been excellent, but with Parigi, he just doesn't get his own ideas.

There are essentially some great concepts and messages about human sexuality here that Parigi gives us, but it's outweighed by the cheesy center, bad acting, terrible direction, and comedy that is more embarrassing than funny.

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