Paul Schrader's Auto Focus, a look at the life of Hogan's Heroes star Bob Crane, is another by-the-numbers, end-of-the-year biopic that would probably be fairly uninteresting if it weren't for the deviant subject matter.  Apparently, Crane, unbeknownst to his millions of fans, was a sick little monkey who liked to – get this – have sex with different women and videotape himself doing it!  Can you believe it?  What kind of vile bastard would be into that?  Forgive the sarcasm, but I get about 30 e-mail messages every day trying to sell me services quite similar to what Crane did back in the early days of home video, which might be the reason why Focus fell disappointingly flat.

We first meet Crane (Greg Kinnear, We Were Soldiers) in February 1964, where he's a popular radio DJ in Connecticut.  Off the air he's a boring guy with a boring wife (Rita Wilson), three boring kids and a boring house.  He says square things like, "How are they hanging?" while refusing both alcohol and cigarettes, which was practically a mortal sin back in the day.  Crane sees himself as a cross between Jacks Lemmon and Benny.  In other words, there's absolutely no hint of the Jekyll and Hyde persona that we know is just beyond the horizon.

The catalyst for the evolution of Crane's dark side is fame.  Once he landed the lead role in Hogan's Heroes in 1965 (there are a few funny scenes involving everyone's shock at the idea of a comedy about a POW camp – this was before The Producers, mind you), celebrity opened many doors to Crane - doors that most people would immediately slam shut.  But Crane just sauntered right through, plopped himself down on the unfamiliar couch and started beating the bishop.

The sex stuff starts innocently enough with dirty magazines, but the stakes get upped when Crane meets handyman John Carpenter (Willem Dafoe, Spider-Man), who happens to be an expert in cutting-edge technology. Because he's a rather unattractive guy, Carpenter rides Crane's coattails to late-night parties with buxom beauties that would ordinarily be unobtainable for him.  The dynamic duo start to photograph the cute co-eds, and once Carpenter introduces Crane to the wonderful world of home video, their orgy sessions are recorded for their own private viewing parties (there's nothing quite like seeing two grown men beat off together to images of themselves).  Hey, you could even call them sexual pioneers!

The film proceeds as you would expect, chronicling the end of Hogan's run in 1971, the downfall of Crane's two marriages and, eventually, his career (the film glosses over many of his post-Hogan's projects), as well as his still-unsolved 1978 murder in a Scottsdale, Arizona motel.  Schrader (Affliction) and screenwriter Michael Gerbosi (Focus is his debut) don't really point the finger of blame at anyone, but that's because they've based their film on Robert Graysmith's book The Murder of Bob Crane.  Instead, they focus Focus on Crane's messed-up life, which succumbs to a world of growing technology and decaying morals.  Along with Love Liza, it's an interesting take on an unconventional addiction.

Kinnear is very good and perfectly cast, since both he and Crane became big stars without doing a whole hell of a lot.  They also have similar faces and mannerisms, and they share the same doofy, happy-go-lucky attitude.  Dafoe's Carpenter is supposed to be a creepy loser, and one would imagine that's exactly why Dafoe was cast in this role.  Fans of Hogan's will surely get a kick out of the scenes set around the show, especially Kurt Fuller's Colonel Klink.

1:47 –

for strong sexuality, nudity, language, some drug use and violence