Cast: Greg Kinnear, Willem Dafoe, Maria Bello, Rita Wilson, Ron Leibman, Michael E. Rodgers
Director: Paul Schrader
Producers: Scott Alexander, Alicia Allain, Pat Dollard, Larry Karaszewski, Todd Rosken
Screenplay: Michael Gerbosi, based on the book "The Murder of Bob Crane" by Robert Graysmith
Cinematography: Fred Murphy
Music: Angelo Badalamenti
U.S. Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics
Auto Focus is the story of the rise and fall of actor Bob Crane. Just about everyone in America is familiar with Crane, or, more precisely, with his television alter-ego, Col. Hogan of "Hogan's Heroes". If every actor has a defining role, Crane's was unquestionably that of Hogan. The series opened on CBS during the 1965-66 TV season and was an immediate success. (Ironically, Crane almost turned down the part, fearing that his participation in a TV show with "funny Nazis" would be a "career killer".) "Hogan's Heroes" lasted for six years before taking its 180+ episodes into syndication, where it continues to play on cable stations to this day - 24 years after the tragic, unsolved murder of its lead actor.
There are countless rumors about what happened to Crane, all of them unsubstantiated. The purpose of Auto Focus is not to solve the murder, but to explore the conditions leading up to it. The movie suggests a suspect, but, as in real life, it does not offer a definitive conclusion. Veteran director Paul Schrader (the writer of Taxi Driver and the director of Affliction) has a penchant for looking at the dark side of human nature, and the opportunity to study Crane's success story gone wrong provided him with a perfect arena.
When the film begins, Crane (Greg Kinnear) is a disc jockey for KNX radio. He seems happy - he has been married for 15 years to his childhood sweetheart, has a delightful family, and attends church regularly. Then his agent brings him the script for "Hogan's Heroes" and Crane's life changes almost overnight. Fame is a heady tonic, but Crane is able to keep on an even keel until he meets audio/video salesman John Carpenter (Willem Dafoe), a seedy individual who befriends Crane and introduces him to late-night sex parties, the swinging circuit, and provides him with the equipment to videotape his sexual exploits. For a while, Crane is able to lead a double life - nice guy in public, sex addict in private. Eventually, however, things spiral out of control. His wife, Annie (Rita Wilson), leaves him. And, once "Hogan's Heroes" is cancelled, he can't get another job because his reputation is badly soiled. His sole friend remains Carpenter, who has leeched onto Crane like a parasite - in large part because of an unconsummated homosexual longing on Carpenter's part. (On those occasions when he tries to steer Crane towards gay sex, he is rebuffed. Despite rumors to the contrary, Crane was resolutely heterosexual.)
Two catalysts contribute to Crane's out-of-control plunge into the world of homemade porn and sexual addiction - his sudden success and his so-called best friend. Like a poor man who suddenly wins the lottery, fame gives Crane as many women as he wants. Like Satan in the garden, Carpenter is there to pluck the fruit and extend it as an irresistible temptation. Carpenter is a user. He clings to Crane because of his fame and because of his attraction to the actor. The relationship becomes unhealthy; however, when Crane recognizes it must be severed, Carpenter disagrees - possibly violently.
What happened to Crane is a tale that occurs with alarming frequency in Hollywood. Dig to the rotten roots of almost every untimely death in the entertainment industry, and you'll find some sexual element to the scandal. To Crane, there's nothing unusual about his sexual appetite. He claims that sex is healthy, and, since he is participating in it, he is showing himself to be a normal, healthy man. Not until it's too late does he realize the difference between "moderation" and "excess."
Greg Kinnear, who began life as a cable TV talk show host, has developed nicely into an actor. Here, he is given the most challenging role of his career, because he is forced to play the gamut, from aw-shucks good guy to a man obsessed by sexual gratification. Plus, there's the added burden of having to replicate some of Bob Crane's mannerisms. (Kinnear isn't a dead ringer for Crane, but there's enough of a resemblance that, in the absence of any pictures of the real Crane, he passes easily.) Willem Dafoe, who has made a career out of creepy characters, adds another one to his gallery.
Auto Focus is loaded with sex and nudity, as might be expected from a film with this subject matter, but Schrader manages to keep things at a level where we never sense a whiff of exploitation. There's as much here (no more, no less) as is necessary for the story to be properly told. The result is a compelling motion picture that illustrates an American tragedy and shows the transformation of a decent family man into someone whose struggles with addiction and association with the wrong man bring him to an untimely end, with no hope of retribution.
© 2002 James Berardinelli