Auto Focus is the story of the strange life and even stranger death of Bob Crane, the actor known famously as the title character of the late-sixties sitcom Hogan’s Heroes and infamously known for his various sexual exploits. Based on Robert Graysmith’s book The Murder of Bob Crane, which details the unsolved mystery of the actor’s death, the story takes us from Crane’s first brush with success to his inevitable consumption by his personal demons.

At first, Crane (Greg Kinnear) seems to have it all; a beautiful wife, adorable children and a swimming pool in the backyard of his California home. He is the nice guy, the family man, and only the stack of porno mags in his garage gives us any indication otherwise.

But when Bob gets the opportunity to play Colonel Hogan for the short-lived but highly successful sitcom, his life takes a subtle turn for the worse as women begin to throw themselves at him. The line between his commitment to his marriage and family and his fantasy life begins to blur.

This is aided by his noxious relationship with A/V nut John Carpenter (eerily played by Willem Dafoe), who provides Crane with everything (including equipment and women) necessary to fulfill his desires. Instead of simply reading porn, Carpenter and Crane set out to create it, and their motto “A day without sex is a day wasted” reflects the magnitude of their obsession. Individually, any of these elements might be harmless, but in Crane’s case they become a ruinous cocktail.

Greg Kinnear does a great job conveying Crane’s need to be liked while satisfying his insatiable sexual desires. As his life continues to spiral downward, Crane maintains the edifice of his presumed respectability. As he moves from TV to dinner theatre to a disastrous turn on Bruno Gerussi’s celebrity cooking show, Crane shows no knowledge that he’s played any part in his downfall, or that anything he has done (including his two divorces) might be his responsibility.

From the day-glo colours of the beginning of the film to the hand-held aesthetic that makes up its end, director Paul Schraeder presents a chilling portrait of celebrity excess. Ironically, it’s Crane’s encounter with celebrity that lets him move from a “healthy” sexual fantasy life to an unhealthy overindulgence. We need only look at the exploits of one Michael Jackson (where do we start?) to see how the adulation of millions can be used to excuse any perversity the mind can conceive of.