Almost 14 years after its release, American Psycho still holds up. While its heavy satirization of yuppie culture may not ring quite so many bells with audiences of today, the performances and artful treatment of disturbing subject matter still shocks, horrifies, and utterly captivates.
Directed by Mary Harron based on Bret Easton Ellis’ novel of the same name, the film centers on “Patrick Bateman” (Christian Bale), a homicidal sociopath who hides his urges behind a veneer of business cards and designer suits. When he loses control and kills a colleague, he must face the potential unraveling of his carefully cultivated life.
Harron is nothing if not a stylish director, taking appalling content and turning it into art – without glorifying or cheapening it. Though she never paints Patrick as a hero, she presents him in a chillingly fascinating light. We don’t watch Patrick because we like him, we do it because it’s impossible to look away. Harron also does a fine job of creating the world of the film, with all its slick cynicism and seedy decadence.
Bale is magnetic as Bateman. He begins the film with a cool, easy energy and almost alien detachment that belies the manic explosiveness that gradually seeps through Patrick’s mask – until its full expression in the third act, when the character succumbs completely to his nature. While the other actors perform admirably, it’s Bale’s show from start to finish.
If you haven’t mustered the courage to see American Psycho yet, brew yourself a cup of tea, get under the covers, and power through it – it’s well worth the possible therapy bills. All kidding aside, it’s an important part of cinematic history that’s too good to be missed.
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