Schrader Flick Brings Crane's Sinful Past Into 'Focus'

"Auto Focus"

The bloody corpse still steaming, Scottsdale Police Lt. Ron Dean said of Bob Crane, "The murder victim has no secrets."

Speaking in parables or specifically, Bob Crane certainly had secrets at the time of his bludgeoning death in 1978 -- secrets that death ushered into the public's eye and secrets detailed in Paul Schrader's new film "Auto Focus."

Director of "American Gigolo" and "Hardcore," the male sexual psyche is securely latched to Schrader as much as his affliction for depression and deterioration, as seen in writing credits "Taxi Driver" and "Raging Bull."

A fixture in the '70s drug-fueled film renaissance, Schrader has little difficulty conjuring the essence, mood and spirit of mid-'60s Los Angeles encircled in a veil of easy drugs, orgy culture and cool sunglasses. And while capturing the scene and the man himself, with Greg Kinnear mirroring Crane in an Oscar-worthy role, the story itself is beautifully simple -- and quite disturbing.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Diggler, it seems, encapsulates the story of "Hogan's Heroes" star Bob Crane, whose swinging sexual exploits and obsession with videotaping his conquests constantly lurked behind his life as family man and wholesome TV star.

"Auto Focus" chronicles his obsession and fall, as well as his relationship with compatriot and video expert John "Carpy" Carpenter (Willem Dafoe). Carpenter relies on Crane to bag girls in exchange for the primitive equipment Carpy provides to fuel Crane's fetish.

The obsessions of both men slither gorgeously across the screen in Kinnear and Dafoe. Kinnear captures the charm and innocence of Crane -- the blushing con man.

Handsome, desperate, deprived, unrepenting, Kinnear smirks his way into a muddy hole of failure with obsession waiting at the edges.

And Dafoe as the holy sleazeball himself -- Carpenter -- illustrates his fermented acting prowess, delivering his most fitting roles in years. Deep wrinkles and a toothy smile shape the shadow behind the creature in slimy, impeccable fashion.

But while the performances drive the mind into glorious somersaults and the constant hand-held, grainy photography warps expectations and dazzles the eye, the film is ultimately unsatisfying.

Crane does not learn, repent or even really enjoy himself. Sex is the fix for a junkie of a different sort. Only in death does Crane cease his exploits. The death scene itself, hammered across the screen in a bloody spray, brutally shocks an audience accustomed to dream-like sex and gentle voices.

"Auto Focus" is an above-average bio-pic with absolutely incredible acting, photography and music but with lasting impressions that lie somewhere near impressed agony and not too far from pissed-off awe.

Admittedly, it's hard to be really happy or completely content after any film by Paul Schrader -- such is the nature of his films. "Auto Focus," in particular adds all the right elements to a story that is unchangeably bleak.

The Arts & Entertainment Editor can be reached at artsdesk@unc.edu.