Paul Schrader’s
Auto Focus is allegedly based on the book “The Murder of Bob
Crane” by Robert Graysmith.
I say allegedly, because the focus of the film is more on
the details of his life than on his unfortunate demise.
And the truth is, the details of his life, the sex
addiction, the inability to let go of the one true success in his
life amidst many failures, just isn’t that interesting.
Schrader’s tale may have worked better as a retrospective
retelling rather than a forward progression building to something.
Yes, he had an addiction, yes he struggled through 2
marriages and a career that fizzled after his show went off the
air, but the reason most of us remember Crane, other than his role
as Colonel Hogan, was because of the mysterious, sordid events
surrounding his death. Had
the film explored this in more than just a closing voice-over,
than it might have worked better.
As it is, the film is beautifully shot, with the style and
textures degrading as Crane’s own mental stability did, it is
wonderfully cast, especially Kinnear who becomes a spitting image
of Crane and Kurt Fuller (finally in a good role) as Werner
Klemperer. But the film suffers from being too laborious in its
character development, too repetitive in its depictions, and in
the end, just too long for its own good.
Auto Focus
purports to be about the life of Hogan’s Heroes star Bob Crane,
much to the publicized protests of Crane’s son Scotty.
It tells of his days as a Los Angeles disc jockey, then his
ascension to television star with Heroes, through struggles with
both his identity and his addiction to sex and to his untimely and
mysterious demise. Crane
associated himself with John Carpenter (an expectedly creepy
Willem Dafoe) who kept Crane on the cutting edge of technology
while contributing to his downfall concurrently.
As Crane’s life spirals out of control, the look of the
film follows along, with the style becoming darker and murkier as
his life does. Schrader
spends long and repetitive sequences showing us how Crane was
tortured with his addiction, yet couldn’t control it. This could have been a bit more subtly done without beating
us over the head repeatedly.
Crane was addicted to sex, got it.
Crane didn’t like himself, got it.
Crane couldn’t get out from under his image of Hogan, got
it. The rest just
becomes repetitious and unnecessary filler.
Were it not for the performances of Kinnear and Dafoe, this
would have been an even less enjoyable experience.
There’s no
denying the ability of Schrader to create a concurrent sympathy
and loathing for his characters, blurring the line between good
and bad while showing the natural evil that may lurk around us
without our knowledge. His
version of Crane, as embodied wonderfully by Kinnear, is one of a
tortured and sad soul who is tempted by the seemingly evil
Carpenter. Kinnear
has definitely matured as an actor, rising from talk show host, to
Oscar nominee, to now accomplished and multi-faceted actor.
While the role is not completely award worthy, because of
Schrader’s one note nature of storytelling, it is still
noteworthy as a role that makes you almost forget you’re
watching an actor and think you’re watching the actual person.
Dafoe’s turn is one that is definitely more creepy and
scary than his near misfire in Spider-Man. He
is a guy who exists around us, that we may not even realize the
depths of unless we get to know him.
Unfortunately though, these great performances, and the
great character turns from Fuller, Rita Wilson and Maria Bello,
cannot overcome a story that gets stuck in repetition and in the
end, bogged down by its own methodology.
Ultimately,
Auto-Focus is a well-intended, well-made but one note unfocused
attempt to try and show the excess that can consume and how one
can get lost inside themselves. There probably was a good story here to tell, but it would
have worked better as a retrospect, exploring the hows and why’s
afterwards, rather than having it told as a voice-over and
afterthought. Hollywood and the entertainment industry has a way of
swallowing people up and uncaringly spitting them out without
concern for the effects that the rollercoaster ride has had on
them. Crane was such
a casuality, just like George Reeves and others who were known for
one thing and spent the rest of their lives capitalizing on it.
There was a message to be told here, of excess, of
addiction, of trying to find yourself again after getting lost.
Unfortunately Schrader believes that repetition breeds
success, since we are given repeatedly similar incidents, each one
being another step down the ladder that Crane ascended so
effortlessly. When
the result is more interesting than the events, there is a very
precarious line to be walked when telling the story.
It’s a line that Schrader starts nicely on, casts very
well, sets the mood and atmosphere for, but fails to expound or
deliver on. We are
more interested in what killed Crane, rather than what drove him,
and in doing so has given us a film that blew a chance to tell a
great story and instead may have further blurred a story which has
been an enigma since it occurred.
Agree?
Disagree, Questions? Comments?
Tell Me Here
|