Auto Focus

Paul Schrader’s Auto Focus ranks among the saddest biopics I’ve ever seen. 

Robert Crane is a nice guy.  He’s funny, likeable, and doing well for himself in the world of LA radio.  When he gets the call to star in “Hogan’s Heroes,” a sitcom that, essentially, plays Stalag 17 for laughs, he’s pretty well set for life. 

But Bob Crane, family man and churchgoing father of three, is not equipped to handle the temptations of fame.  He doesn’t succumb to alcohol or drugs, however – it’s sex that gets him.  All of a sudden, he’s attracting hangers on.  All of a sudden, he’s enjoying nearly limitless access to willing women.  And when one hanger on becomes his supplier of women, his enabler and even coach, well, it’s only a matter of time.

The underappreciated Greg Kinnear plays Bob Crane, and he’s perfectly cast.  Kinnear, an inherently likeable guy, keeps us on his team after Crane has alienated his family, his friends, his agent, and even himself.  The justly appreciated Willem Dafoe plays John Carpenter, Crane’s confidant, enabler, groupie, and (perhaps) would-be lover.  Dafoe does some heavy lifting here, giving us a man whose job depends on his access to celebrities and whose combination of pushiness and neediness mask a deep, deep hunger for love.

As you may know, someone murdered Bob Crane in his sleep in 1978.  When the Scottsdale, AZ police entered Crane’s hotel room, they found it filled with audiovisual and photographic equipment, homemade porn tapes, and the trappings of a man who’d given himself over entirely to his addiction.  That’s why Auto Focus feels so sad: Crane didn’t survive his journey to rock bottom.  He never did pull himself together.  He died alienated from everyone who loved him.  What a way to go.