
Auto Focus
A Kodak Moment To Be Forgotten
What else can be said of a life that crashed and burned and left no
redeeming trace behind? "Auto Focus" is a film that exposes the private
life of a B actor, Bob Crane, known to the American public as the likable
star of the 60s hit, "Hogan's Heroes," and the unlikely star of his own
creation in self-promotional and personally gratifying pornographic videos
that he shot with his male groupie, John Carpenter.
Bob Crane (Greg Kinnear), a sprint jockey from the get go in Connecticut is an
upstanding family man and dyed-in-the-wool Catholic who begins this film as a
man on the rise in the entertainment industry in California. He has a
"little secret" that will bring his life as he knows it crashing down to
earth with a resounding thud, but not before a voyeuristic audience is
allowed to participate in his self destruction. Kinnear has fashioned a
performance that is eerily on mark, but is strangely devoid of any
feeling that would enable the viewer to feel the slightest bit of sympathy
for him. Crane was a man seduced by his own fame and the doors that it
could open and shut for him at will. While Kinnear projects a "gee whiz,
boy next door" attitude about him when the occasion warrants, he just as
quickly changes his spots into the sexual addict that the world unfortunately remembers
him for today.
Crane's obsession with sex ("a day without sex is a day wasted",) eventually
rollercoasters out of control and results in the divorce from first wife,
Anne (Rita Wilson), and into his second marriage to Patricia (Maria
Bello), who was Col. Klink's secretary in "Hogan's Heroes."
A groupie, gofer or hanger on, take your pick of monikers, in the
guise of John Carpenter (Willem Dafoe) will partner with Crane and become a
harbinger of death, in the guise of a fellow "normal" individual. The "urge
to merge" with a celebrity, and to grasp the brass ring that such
association allows, is the driving force behind Carpenter's friendship.
Crane and Carpenter feed off of one another, and the capitulating forces
that fuel their association, eventually crash and burn when Crane decides
he wants to change his life for the better, and leave the sordid world
of sex, lies and videotapes behind him. It is a decision that will prove to
be quite fatal.
Dafoe is superb as Carpenter, with greasy finesse oozing from every pore,
as he placates Crane's every sexual and non-sexual whim. He lives for the
tales he relates to anyone who will listen of having sold the latest
technological video wonders of the 60's to the likes of Elvis, the Smothers
Brothers and others. He thrives on the glories of past times, until he hooks
up on the set of "Hogan's Heroes" with Crane, and begins a descent into the
unchartered world of pornography with a more than willing compatriot. While
Dafoe's performance is mesmerizing, it is at the same time pathetic and
angry, and is calibrated to uncork with hair trigger precision, as he oils
his way ever deeper into Crane's orbit. A scene that depicts Crane and
Carpenter so bored and jaded with their secret life, that they both perform
acts of self-masturbation at the same time as they watch a video of Crane
"performing," is representative of the new lows to which they have sunk.
Rita Wilson as Anne, made this reviewer's teeth grind each time she
appeared on the screen. The assumption is that she was supposed to be the
old "ball and chain" who would always stand behind her man, but her
performance had the effect of oil and water -- it just didn't mix. Her
acting left a great deal to be desired, and it is with sadness that the
comment can be fashioned that this reviewer has seen better acting
displayed between a driver and a police officer, as the former attempts to
"beat the rap" of a speeding ticket. Wilson never gets out of low gear and
is stuck grinding pistons that burn without a trace of having ever existed.
Maria Bello as Patricia connects with her role and brings spunk to the
material she has been provided. At least her emotions run the gamut.
Paul Schrader has submitted for our considerations, a film that traces the
destruction of two men who could not break clear of forces that enveloped
them tighter and tighter, until they reached the boiling point and shattered
like brittle glass. The budget on this film was low and in certain
respects, it shows the thin veneer that manages to cover some layers of
solidity, but more often than not, elicits particle board. The parts of the
film that cover the years of "Hogan's Heroe's" looked like a television
movie; like Swiss cheese and full of holes. It's interesting to note that
every female shown in various states of undress were shown in the suits
that God gave them, but when it came to showing the male form, it was
generic backsides and skillful blockage of any full frontal nudity on the
part of the male stars. It's amusing in light of the fact that this is a
film that bases a great part of its storyline ON pornography and seems
sexist in its calculations.
The last third of the film, as Crane descends deeper into his personal
nightmare, finds the camera capturing the scenes in a hurky jerky movement,
as though to characterize his life as it tumbles. The cinematography by
Fred Murphy comes in two shades -- light and dark. Light for the family man
Crane, and dark when his daytime hours collide with the harpies of the night.
There is one especially touching scene with Lenny (Ron Leibman) as Crane's
agent as he listens with apostasy at Crane's confession of wanting to leave
his private life behind and get back in touch with reality and his career
as he used to know. Leibman is Crane's conscience, attempting to steer his
client and friend back into the fold of normalcy, but who is too little,
too late.
One does not walk away from this film with a sense of having been
entertained, but rather like having walked on the wild side of perversion
and all that it encompasses. Crane always claimed that he was "normal" and
that others had problems and were not attuned with life. In truth, he tore
the skin of truth apart with both eyes open and reaped what he had sown --
a fissure of immeasurable depths that refuses to close the wound even to
this day.
Written by: Mary F. Sibley
Reviewers Rating: 5
Reader's Rating: 5.67
Reader's Votes: 3
Added: 5-Apr-2003
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