‘I have to return some videotapes…’
If I were to make a list of the films that I have rewatched the most in my life, American Psycho would definitely be in the top ten. In the six or seven or so years since I last saw it, however, a weird thing has happened. American Psycho has gone from a ’90s cult classic (it was released in January 2000, but it was filmed in the ’90 and is spiritually of that decade), to a film that has somehow become an instruction manual for misguided Gen Z boys. While this is unfortunate, it doesn’t change the fact that it is a masterpiece…
Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) is simply not there. He’s physically present. He shows up to his ill-defined job in finance. He visits all the right clubs, wears all the right clothes and does all the right drugs. But when his murderous fantasies start to bleed into reality, his ill-fitting mask of sanity begins to slip. Willem Dafoe is probably the pick of the supporting cast as the enigmatic private detective Donald Kimball, and independent film legend Chloe Sevigny is also excellent, but this is Bale’s movie.
American Psycho has become so ubiquitous in popular culture that it almost seems that it was destined to become a huge success. Anyone who has read Bret Easton Ellis’ novel will know that it was far from a sure thing, however. Large sections of it are deliberately banal, the characters are deliberately similar, and Bateman, the book’s narrator, describes murdering women in the same dispassionate way that he lists what everyone was wearing for dinner. Writer-director Mary Harron (she co-wrote the screenplay with Guinevere Turner) deserves huge credit for taking everything that makes the book so compelling, while ironing out the book’s more unfilmable moments, to create something utterly unique. But again, her assured direction would mean nothing without the right guy in the lead role. Bale is astonishing here. It’s a testament to his performance that, despite being one of the most celebrated actors of his generation, this remains his most memorable and captivating achievement. Every movement, every facial expression, every line delivery is perfectly measured. And he’s funny. Genuinely funny in a way that he never would be again (the black humour demonstrated here perhaps explains why the film has found a new life online).
Inconveniently (because that’s kind of the point of a film review), I can’t really explain why I love this film so much. I love it for all of the reasons above. I love it for its uniqueness and its innovation. I love it because it’s so damn rewatchable. Most of all, I love it because every time I watch it, I’m surprised at the depth of feeling it inspires. American Psycho, despite being constantly misunderstood by idiots, remains a masterpiece.
