Metro Pulse/Movie Guru/Auto Focus

Movie Guru Rating:
Meditative (3 out of 5)

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Bare breasts can't save a movie that should have been better

by Adrienne Martini

In Hollywood-think, tits are a good way to boost a film's box office dollars. Stick a pair of bared breasts (or, heck, just a single naked boob) in a picture, and you've got an instant hit. Whether they be integral to the story, like Halle Berry's in Monster's Ball, or completely gratuitous, as in any film by Russ Meyer, ta-tas guarantee a certain amount of draw. Which is fortunate for Auto Focus, because bazongas and Greg Kinnear is really all it has going for it.

It's surprising, really. The source material for Auto Focus is pretty dang grabby. Based on true crime scribe Robert Graysmith's book detailing the life and lusts of Hogan's Heroes star Bob Crane, Auto Focus should be a gripping study of one man's descent into addiction. Rather than addiction to your more standard substances, however, Crane's monkey was sex.

This otherwise wholesome star—Crane neither drank nor smoked and was a staunch Catholic—was a fixture on the late '60s swinger scene, played drums in Hollywood's strip clubs, screwed hundreds of women (sometimes several simultaneously), and videotaped some of his exploits for later enjoyment. His pusherman John Carpenter (no, not that John Carpenter), a Sony salesman who hooked Crane into the sex underground as well as provided the latest in video technology, allegedly bashed the star's head in with a tripod when Crane threatened to end their relationship. That's good stuff, and even more interesting because it happens to be true.

What makes the project seem even more like a can't miss is director Paul Schrader, whose previous movies, including the haunting Affliction and the hypnotic Light Sleeper, prove that he knows how to tell a captivating story. But with Auto Focus, Schrader tries to do too much. Instead of telling only one story, he attempts to tell several, which scatters the film's energy so much that you're left wondering what the point of it all was.

For instance, Schrader briefly detours into Carpenter's life with a series of vignettes that offer a scant backstory on this pivotal fixture. Rather than spackle gaps in Crane's life with this information, Schrader merely makes you want to know more about Carpenter. Why did he continue his relationship with this minor star? What was his background before the party started? And was he really as confused about his sexuality as Crane makes him appear? We really don't know, given what Schrader has presented us with, and these questions only diffuse the focus from Crane.

Regardless of Schrader's scattershot approach to the material, he does do a fine job of casting. Rita Wilson and Maria Bello are wonderful as Crane's put-upon wives. Wilson's Anne Crane has a feisty streak that the actress deliciously underplays while Bello's Patricia Crane perfectly walks the line between brainless bimbo and smart chick. Willem Dafoe is a strong choice for Carpenter. Dafoe's grizzled, scarred features add depth to the character and make him more interesting than the script probably intends.

The acting props really belong to Kinnear, however. While As Good As It Gets proved that he could do more than Talk Soup, with Auto Focus he shows that he can do more than just support the main stars. His performance here is both slick and gritty in equal turns—and it is constantly interesting. From a heartbreaking scene where Crane tries to connect with his estranged son to glossy moments on a PR junket, you never quite know who Kinnear's Crane really is. It's a shame that this strong performance is not better supported by Schrader's direction or Michael Gerbosi's script.

Still, there are mostly naked women scattered about to keep things interesting. And there are certainly a lot of them, of almost every shape and size imaginable. In Crane's world, they become almost like wallpaper, a ubiquitous feature in so many of the frames. Also prevalent is Crane's homemade porn, some of it made blurry to help the film avoid an NC-17 rating. This is not the sort of movie for those easily offended by such things. Midway through the film, however, you notice that you stop noticing all of the onscreen grinding and nudity—because there is so much of it. While each of Crane's steps deeper into the depths of his obsession should be shocking, it instead becomes rather tepid.

With any luck, Auto Focus will earn Kinnear another Oscar nod. Then, hopefully, the movie will sink in the deep pool full of other movies that should have been much better than they actually were; not even the boobs could keep Auto Focus�afloat.