'60s Sitcom Star Inadvertently Shows the Way It is illuminating when one finds oneself in the position of being influenced by a film at a very intimate level. A movie I saw recently had a powerful effect on me, and caused me to examine the very existence and meaning of my soul. And that movie, of course, was Auto Focus.

I didn't expect all that much from the movie. I'd heard that it was a pretty good telling of the probable circumstances leading to Bob Crane's murder in a Scottsdale hotel room in 1978. And it was profoundly discomfiting, accreting ever more examples of meaningless sex, both group and otherwise, and voyeurism, and contrasting them with Crane's dogged assertion (and, until near the end, apparent belief) of his normality. Even creepier was its depiction of the entirely unhealthy relationship Crane established with John Carpenter, who by the end of the film is his only friend. Crane doesn't seem to realize that this sycophantic reprobate is many things to him, but not his friend. It takes years of this sybaritic lifestyle for Crane to even suspect that there might be something wrong (or missing) at his core. Even more disturbingly, this recognition-attributed to him by the film-makers as giving rise to the likely motive for his murder-is conjecture; in reality he may never have seen anything particularly deviant about his behavior even to the night of his fatal bludgeoning.

But I think that the hyper-sexual conduct of Crane was symptomatic of something missing in him. Or perhaps it was evidence of a spirituality hammered flat. Or perhaps hammered into the shape of a penis. But I kept dwelling on the idea that he was hollow. The film suggests that he may have been a cipher in the first place, but I think he became it. A void appeared in him, and grew unchecked. I don't believe, at least, that people engage in the sort of nightly behavior Crane did unless they are staving off void, at least subconsciously. Or maybe they do it to wear down and destroy their consciences, so as not to be bothered by them. Or maybe they do it compulsively for no reason at all. I'm not sure which is the more disturbing circumstance. And so down he spiralled, grinding the substance off of himself until his murder.*

Because of all of this, the movie is discomfitingly creepy. Afterward I was lying in bed next to my wife, thinking of all that Crane had, and what he could have done to avoid his descent into banal depravity. I began thinking about his wife and children, and I imagined that he could've prayed to recognize them as the point around which his life would revolve. As I thought of the prayer he might give, I realized with a shock that there was no difference between his prayer and mine, and that I was actually the one praying.

I should state at this point that this epiphany was not brought about by any similarity between Bob Crane's sex life and mine. That isn't completely correct. Our sex lives were very similar in that from about 1988 to 1992 his was as productive as mine was. I'll let you all make up your own bonus joke here. Mine is that I wouldn't have been qualified to even be the Carpenter in the story. I wasn't enough of an A/V geek.

But back to the more relevant topic (at least to me). I didn't know what to do. Initially I thought that perhaps I should get out of bed and pray immediately, but I was still in shock. Furthermore, I wasn't sure how I was going to approach my reconciliation to God. After all, I'd been God-free for 15 years or so, and wanted to be in the right frame of mind. To approach Him with impetuous emotionality was something I wanted to avoid; though I was reared in a fairly mainstream evangelical church**, I'd flirted with a pentecostal denomination in the past and had come away from the experience disappointed and wary of faith based too much on emotion. Because of this, now I wanted (and want) to approach God with composed reverent awed gratefulness, not blubbering discombobulation.

So, I'm not sure what all of this means, or will entail. My trusty atheism is gone, and now I'm trying to figure out how to approach God. The onus is on me to open the door back up, since I closed it in the first place. And I've not even gotten into what implications this has for my wife and kids. This is not an experience that involves only me, but I think that's all to the good. A big part of the reason for my re-awakening is the desire to be a better husband and father. To become the man I should be. The solid kind, who isn't afraid to write the occasional sentence fragment. And my wife has been very supportive and understanding through all of this. That's probably because she is good and kind. Yet another indication that I married very, very, well.

I want to thank John Flory for his friendship and counsel during this time. He's been tremendously helpful. He's also a big part of the reason that I have come back to belief, nebulous though it is at present.

-DG


*Understandably, some might view this as a simplistic and prudishly moralistic judgment of the role Crane's sex life played in his view of himself and in his behavior. Perhaps I am being too naive in imputing the catalysts of his descent and murder to his lifestyle. He and Carpenter might have loved their lives and thought them fulfilling, and for reasons invisible to history, but unrelated to sex (insofar as their compulsions were about sex), Carpenter may have murdered his friend. That's a reasonable point, but I have great difficulty believing it. Perhaps that says more about me than about Crane.

**The church I grew up in was very normal to me, but I learned subsequently that there aren't a lot of non-Trinitarian protestant churches. Fortunately, that aberration in doctrine was about as wacky as it got. I don't have bad memories of church, except that it was occasionally tedious. And that the youth minister got nervous when I would roll up on him with my nine and my bitches. You'd think he'd never seen a matching mink codpiece and hat before. He was always gracious to my hos, though.  ¶ 21:06