American Psycho and its themes (article) (2023)

For those unfamiliar with Bret Easton Ellis's controversial 1991 fictional novel, American Psycho is a satirical take on 1980s yuppie New York (or, more accurately, Wall Street), revolving around the Wall Street exploits Patrick Bateman (cleverly portrayed in Christian Bale's film adaptation), who is also a narcissistic sociopath. I've read the book several times, and while I certainly respect its sharpness and Ellis's bold, no-punch approach to some of the more violent passages, the overly vulgar rhetoric and profanity scattered throughout feels like overkill. In hindsight, writer/director Mary Harron (I Shot Andy Warhol) certainly proved the right person to entrust the transition from script to screen, holistically elevating the essence of the material while maintaining the novel's prevailing ambiguity. I watched the movie countless times and analyzed it to its fullest. I find the characters compelling, the situations fascinating and hilarious, and the material layered. So much so that with each viewing I gain something new or an alternative view of any of his scenes. There is one thing that has bothered me since its release in April 2000 (if you don't mind), and that is that I would walk into any local video store and find American Psycho sitting right on top of the "Horror" shelf - that's always the case. It annoyed me, and here's why.

Not only are the book and movie almost entirely satirical in nature, but the underscored psychological component (first-person narration and all) makes for a far more cerebral foray than anything else you've encountered in the series. Mill horror section of a Blockbuster. Now, that's not to say that violent acts aren't committed on the screen throughout the film... or is it? I guess it depends on your perspective. However, there is evidence to trace the support of both arguments, and heck, Bale is depicted on the poster holding a Michael Myers-esque kitchen knife, right? I always felt like the picture did more harm than good to the film - it fooled people into inadvertently putting the film in a bunch of direct-to-video B-movie titles. I don't know, maybe it's just me and I'm reading a lot about it, but there's something about American Psycho sitting on the same shelf as John Carpenter's iconic 1978 horror film "Halloween" that bothers me (and yet I love the two movies). So for those looking for a little more method to madness, I thought I'd discuss some of the finer points and key themes present in the film, what it all means, and perhaps quantify why American Psycho is more deserving of its own metaphor. . shelf.

INCORRECT IDENTITY

At the top of the list is undoubtedly the recurring theme of mistaken identity, something that is always present in American Psycho. It is perhaps the biggest staple of the film. On display from the opening dinner scene to one of the iconic closing sequences at Harry's Bar. From the start, Ellis highlights the carbon-copy nature of these individuals (and I use the term "individual" loosely) who inhabit Wall Street. Street and its wide-ranging weather, and continues to validate this lack of individualism through imagery and dialogue. Early in the runtime, we are officially introduced to one of these would-be individuals, Pat Bateman, our leading man (in the sense that we sit with him throughout the film) who almost immediately turns out to be an unreliable narrator. . 🇧🇷 Thus setting in motion the dilemma of reality versus fantasy, a point of contention that will inevitably be raised by the viewer as the film unfolds. With the myriad of times the mistaken identity comes into play, it's surprising that no one knows what's real and what's not, including Patrick. Here's a breakdown of these top occurrences.

• In the opening scene, Bryce and McDermott (Patrick's co-workers) reference Paul Allen (ultimately revealed to be played by Jared Leto) sitting across the table from them. Bateman corrects them, or so he thinks, directing his attention to another man who looks like everyone else in the restaurant and who he thinks is Allen, but he isn't.
• The second example is in the boardroom where Paul Allen is actually to blame for mistaking Bateman for another co-worker, Marcus Halberstram. Bateman goes on to divulge to the viewer that the two do the exact same job, have similar suits and glasses, and even go to the same barber (though Patrick has a slightly better haircut if you ask him). This is the first time the public has witnessed this pattern of mistaken identity develop, and perhaps Bateman isn't the only one to do so. In the same scene, Paul asks Patrick (or Marcus according to him) about Cecilia, someone we don't know, and also refers to McDermott as "Baxter". The only central woman we've been introduced to so far is Evelyn (Reese Witherspoon), who is Patrick's supposed fiancée. Patrick plays along with Allen's false lies, though the reason for this remains a mystery.
• At the work Christmas party, Hamilton (another colleague) greets Patrick as "McCloy" and although Evelyn walks over and calls Patrick's name, Hamilton doesn't seem to notice. At the same party, Paul meets Patrick (referring to him as Marcus again) and suggests they have dinner and that he bring his girlfriend Cecilia (who is not Patrick's girlfriend). Importantly, Paul hesitates, searching for a name to come to mind when it's Bateman who finally chimes in with the name Cecilia. When Evelyn asks why Paul called Patrick "Marcus", he simply signals to her mistletoe and ignores her. At this point, Evelyn seems to be the only person who correctly identifies those around her.
• Patrick checks into Texarkana to have dinner with Paul Allen under the guise of Marcus Halberstram. While dropping someone's name on a table in front of them, Patrick accidentally says his own name under his breath, quickly correcting him. However, Allen doesn't seem to notice.
• When Detective Donald Kimball (played by Willem Dafoe) enters the lawsuit, he mentions someone he interviewed and how another colleague was mistaken for Paul Allen.
• In a frantic state, Patrick calls his lawyer and at the beginning of the call refers to him as "Howard" (who we later find out is actually Harold).
• In the closing stages of the film, Bateman's lawyer "Harold Carnes" refers to him as "Davis" and asks how "Cynthia" is doing.

INDIVIDUALISM AND SOCIAL STATUS

While mistaken identity is often the key element that worries not just Bateman, but all the characters who occupy this yuppie landscape, the underlying core is the absence of anything resembling an identity, which inevitably leads to confusion among costumes. Likewise, socioeconomic status becomes the main currency with which these merchants trade. If you can't get reservations at the best restaurants, you don't live in the right part of Manhattan, and your business card doesn't scream "Look at me," you're risking your reputation and ultimately how others can or can't. perceive you. Bateman says exactly who or what he is (or more accurately, isn't) right from the start, and the vapid, hollow nature of him is on full display throughout the rest of the movie.

There is an idea of ​​a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real self: just an entity, something illusory. And even though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel the flesh squeezing yours and maybe even feel that our lifestyles are probably comparable... I'm just not there.

When seeing him for the first time, most people are unlikely to give Patrick's opening monologue a second thought, but what he's doing is letting him know that there's a self-awareness inside of him. That he may not actually be a character in the true sense of the word, rather, the apex of the worst traits and behaviors of that society in that place and time – a walking cliché. Let's talk about Bateman's need for validation at all times and his desire to constantly profess something (anything) of value to his teammates. And how, after it, he turns out not only a hypocrite, but a conceited one and, moreover, a compulsive liar.

The do's and don'ts of wearing a bold striped shirt

First, Bateman uses his tall and proud narcissism, evident from the moment he begins to tell us about his daily morning routine, which involves yoga, sit-ups (thousands of them to be precise), bathing, and a level of self-care application. Skin. that would probably embarrass any woman. Patrick sees an opportunity during the opening narration to name the address of his Upper West Side apartment as if we, the audience, really care. The need to assert social status is first shown in the opening dinner scene, when McDermott questions why the group isn't eating at Dorsia (an establishment we later discover is apparently impossible to book), and then, the men continue. to pull out their American Express cards with disdain to pay for a $570 dinner. but I'd like to make reservations somewhere." Money is no objection to the elite and they will use it whenever they are in trouble. Bryce can be seen giving extra money to the nightclub bouncer for preferential treatment, and later Patrick she even checks on Christie to assuage her doubts about another night with him.

I'm on the verge of tears when we get to Espace because I'm pretty sure we won't get a decent table. But we do, and relief washes over me in an incredible wave.

Below are just a few examples where Patrick shows off his social status.

• He makes sure the laundromat knows that his sheets are expensive and that they are from Santa Fe.
• Nomination to Donald Trump and Ivana Trump.
• Patrick has a moment of sheer panic when he realizes that Paul's apartment faces the park and is clearly more expensive than his.
• He mentions a carry bag made by Jean Paul Gaultier.
• Subsequently, he requests that an escort not wear the "Bijan" robe.

There are far more important issues to worry about than Sri Lanka.

Christian Bale's portrayal of Bateman is incredible. All the little nuances in the facial expressions and the patter between the lines perfectly convey all the insecurities of the characters. There is nothing more important to Bateman than status and the desire to make everyone jealous. So, on the rare occasions that he doesn't get the answer he wants, there is nowhere to maneuver.

Leave. I've assessed the situation and I'm on my way.

The options are to withdraw completely from the situation, or alternatively, you are forced to sit down and meditate. As is perfectly reflected in the scene in which, quite naturally, he asks Christie and Sabrina (the two escorts) if they want to know what he does, to which they say no. Seeing this as another attempt to stand out, Patrick tells them he works on Wall Street at Pierce and Pierce and asks if they've heard of him, to which they both shake their heads. Needless to say, his contempt for them in that moment is palpable and simply articulated through an effortless scowl. These bizarre actions and reactions to seemingly trivial things like a workplace is what makes the movie so much fun. Later, Patrick makes random jokes about the irony of Ted Bundy's dog being named "Lassie", to which his secretary Jean asks, "Who is Ted Bundy?" and another for co-workers about 1950s serial killer Ed Gein (who they believe is the maître d' of the Canal bar).

The most important thing to remember about Bateman is how desperately he needs the approval of his peers (and, in turn, the public) and for them to believe how polite and worldly he is. Of course, none of these opinions that he gives are really his own. They are always delivered methodically and are clearly a well-rehearsed collection of tidbits he read somewhere or inevitably picked up on as pop culture evolved.

evelyn williams: You hate this job anyway. I don't see why you can't give up.

patrick bateman: Because I want to fit in.

Let's talk about how over and over again Patrick contradicts himself, despite what he may think.

Over dinner at Espace, Bryce brings up the subject of the massacres in Sri Lanka and how it might affect them, to which Patrick declares that there are bigger issues to worry about.

Well, we have to end apartheid. And stop the nuclear arms race, stop terrorism and world hunger. We have to provide food and shelter for the homeless, oppose racial discrimination, and promote civil rights while promoting equal rights for women. We have to encourage a return to traditional moral values. Most importantly, we have to promote general social concern and less materialism in the youth.

After delivering what sounds like political campaign hyperbole, Bryce does what most of us would do and derisively laughs at Bateman. Luis, however, gives Patrick the validation he's been looking for, with a response of "How encouraging." It all sounds great in theory, but Patrick just echoes the thoughts of the masses. Ironically, when he gets the chance to provide food or shelter to the homeless, not only does he not do it, but he taunts and ultimately kills the poor bum. Likewise, you won't find a more chauvinistic and immoral group of men than Patrick surrounds himself with, and certainly none worse than him. Bateman constantly criticizes and objectifies the women in his life, and never seems remotely interested in his thoughts or opinions. These are some examples of the answers he gives throughout the movie.

• "Don't wear that outfit again, put on a dress, a skirt or something."
• "I'm trying to listen to the new Robert Palmer tape, but Evelyn, my so-called fiancée, keeps buzzing in my ear."
• "You should take a little more lithium or have a Diet Coke, a little caffeine can get you out of that crisis."
• "You're not quite blonde, more dirty blonde."
• "There are no girls with good personalities."
• "You are not very important to me."
• "If you really want to do something for me, then stop doing that scene now."

In hindsight, you might laugh at Bateman's idea of ​​promoting less materialism in young people, given all that goes on. It's a statement that proves to be the height of hypocrisy when you weigh in on the film's sheer volume of indulgence and excess.

This is Sussudio, a great, great song, a personal favourite.

Music is a big part of American Psycho and in particular Patrick's life. There are a number of great '80s songs, but three specific artists appear in pivotal scenes throughout the movie, Huey Lewis And The News, Phil Collins, and Whitney Houston. The first of these takes place after Bateman and Allen have eaten dinner and returned to the former's apartment for a drink. It's unclear if Bateman's quasi-criticism of the album as a monologue by Huey Lewis and The News is purely for distraction or just another opportunity to educate a fellow associate. Either way, it's painfully fake and a whole lot of fun.

Their early work was too new for my taste, but when Sports came out in '83, I think they really broke through commercially and artistically. The entire album has a crisp, clear sound and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a real lift. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a much more bitter and cynical sense of humor.

Later in the film, Bateman offers two other pompous and wordy album reviews on the aforementioned Phil Collins and Whitney Houston. It quickly becomes apparent that he doesn't have an original thought about almost anything. Despite all of his perceived excitement from him, when Detective Kimball reveals that he has just bought the same Huey Lewis And The News album, Bateman resorts to complete fabrication.

donald kimball: Huey Lewis and the news. Good things! I just bought it on the way here. Did you find out what?

patrick bateman: Never. I mean, I really don't like singers.

donald kimball: You're not a big music fan, huh?

patrick bateman: I do not like music. It's just that they're... Huey sounds pretty black to me.

For almost the entire runtime, Patrick makes continuous comments about anything, and yet what's most fascinating about him as a character is that when the movie finally comes full circle and he's finally asked to give his personal opinion about something (perhaps for the first time) as pertinent as the Iran-Contra controversy, he simply responds to Bryce with "Whatever." Almost like he's finally accepted the fact that it doesn't really matter what he thinks because no one is listening and no one cares.

Timothy Bryce: He poses as a harmless old curmudgeon, but on the inside... on the inside...

patrick bateman: [narration] … “but inside” doesn't matter.

craig mcdermott: “Inside”, yes, “inside…” – believe it or not, Bryce, we are really listening to you…

Timothy Bryce: Come on, Bateman, what do you think?

patrick bateman: Whichever is.

He was probably returning videotapes

Lies come thick and heavy from Patrick Bateman's mouth. Some big, some small, but undeniably present in every corner. The genius surrounding the idea of ​​an unreliable narrator is that maybe it's not all lies, and maybe it's just that we don't see every interaction, hear every conversation, or get officially introduced to every character spoken to. near. Why Patrick lies remains a mystery. Although, if he had to bet on a guess, he'd say it's both self-preservation and morbid curiosity about the answer, and, in turn, what his next move would be in a game of chess where he's the only player. Below is the potential scope of his lies.

• She tells Jean that she's late because of her aerobics class, but then we see her doing her exercises at home.
• Patrick also tells Jean that he boxed with Ricky Harrison at the Harvard Club, who knows if there's any truth to that.
• Evelyn makes reference to the fact that Patrick's father practically owns the company. There is never a mention of his father or evidence that he owns anything. Maybe it's a lie that Patrick is just facilitating.
• Patrick says he has a lunch date at Hubert's in fifteen minutes and ignores Victoria when she wonders if she should move uptown or not. He then makes plans with her for the next Saturday, and when she agrees, he says that he has a performance of Les Mis.
• He tells Courtney that they are in Dorsia when they are actually in Arcadia (as shown on the menu) and then lies to Luis about getting a reservation at Dorsia.
• Patrick continues to let Paul Allen believe his girlfriend's name is Cecilia.
• He pretends to have a phone conversation with John, and later divulges the alleged details of the fictional conversation to Detective Kimball.
• Referring to Paul Allen, he says, "I think he was probably a closeted homosexual who did a lot of cocaine."
• Patrick tells Kimball that he is having lunch with Cliff Huxtable at the Four Seasons (Cliff Huxtable is a fictional character on The Cosby Show).
• Patrick begins referring to himself as Paul Allen.
• Patrick constantly uses returned videotapes as an excuse to get out of any situation.
• “Kimball, I wanted to talk to you” – yes, that's a lie.
• Kimball asks Bateman about the last time he saw Paul Allen, to which he replies, "We went to a new musical called Oh Africa, Brave Africa, it was fun, that was it." You can see Patrick working on this lie as he tells it.
• Patrick lies about not listening to Huey Lewis And The News. How do you know he "sounds pretty black" if he hasn't heard it?
• He lies to Jean about making a reservation for them at the Dorsia.
• He hilariously trips over telling Jean that he's not really seeing anyone (even though he's supposedly engaged to Evelyn).
• Says you want a meaningful relationship with someone special.
• During lunch with Kimball, Patrick says that the night of Paul's disappearance, he just showered and ate ice cream.
• Patrick tells Elizabeth that Christie is his cousin and that she is from France; We both know they're lies
• Elizabeth asks Patrick if he knows the guy who disappeared from Pierce and Pierce and he says no. The man is Paul Allen. Although if you accept that no one knows each other in a literal sense, it may not be a lie.

REALITY VS FANTASY

The main topic of conversation surrounding American Psycho is the notion of reality versus fantasy, and how much, if any, of what we see throughout the film can be believed. Is it happening as we see it? Or is it simply a visual representation of fantasy sprung from Bateman's sick and depraved imagination? Once he accepts that Bateman is an unreliable narrator, the quicker he discovers evidence for both arguments. Let's look at the pros and cons, and we can start by first looking at various things that Patrick says go unnoticed or unheard, and then we can look at the remaining visual instances.

You're my lawyer, so I guess you should know that I've killed a lot of people.

The first example occurs early in the process when Patrick insults and threatens a bartender. I guess it could just be that the place has dance music blasting, and with her back to him, she can't see or hear him speak. But still, maybe that's what he really meant and just didn't say.

You are a fucking ugly bitch. I want to stab him to death and then play with her blood.

The second time this happens is when Patrick is trying to dry clean his sheets. He tells the Chinese that if he doesn't shut up he will kill her. This is a bit clearer, at least because she doesn't speak English so she wouldn't even know he was threatening her with physical violence, that doesn't mean he knew...

During a dinner with Paul Allen, Patrick boasts that he is "totally crazy and likes to dissect girls". He conveniently reveals this while Paul is substantially intoxicated, leaving it open to interpretation whether Bateman ever said it or whether Paul ignored him or didn't listen because he was so drunk.

Similarly to the first example, in a later nightclub scene, Bateman tells a model he knows that he enjoys "murders and executions". Only this time she hears it, but she mistakenly believes that she says "mergers and acquisitions". Again, it's a noisy environment, so who knows how, if at all, it's actually delivered.

The last one is from an interaction Patrick had with Evelyn over lunch. She seems more concerned with looking at someone she knows across the room (who is wearing new jewelry) than listening to what she has to say. This further supports her comment about her (and everyone else) being so materialistic and careless.

patrick bateman: I think, um, Evelyn that, um, we lost touch.

evelyn williams: Because? What is wrong?

patrick bateman: My need to engage in large-scale homicidal behavior can't be fixed, but, uh, I don't have any other way to satisfy my needs.

Certainly there are moments that feel so strange that you can almost certainly dismiss them as wishful thinking. Most of these come up in the final act, and I'll go into more detail shortly, but here's a short list of other instances that raise the fact-versus-fantasy debate.

• Patrick is childishly teased on the phone as he tries to make a reservation at the Dorsia. I'm not sure if he'll find someone who reacts this way, but hey, this is upper level 1980s New York, so who knows?
• Patrick appears to leave a clear trail of blood in the elevator lobby while dragging a body. There is a guard at the entrance who does not notice.
• Patrick completes a crossword puzzle with just the words "meat" and "bone". This small detail could be due to what he has in mind.
• Patrick plans to use a nail gun, but it's one that clearly requires a compressor to work, and therefore he wouldn't be able to fire it.
• Patrick runs through an apartment building in the middle of the night with a chainsaw (are you sure someone would notice?)
• He then drops the chainsaw from great heights and precisely hits a moving target. This seems highly unlikely. First, for him to turn correctly, and second, for him to land perfectly on the woman as well.
• Christie runs screaming and knocking from door to door, but no one answers. Creating such a disturbance (combined with said chainsaw) would certainly alert those in the building and curiosity would probably get the better of at least one tenant, right?

This confession meant nothing.

Things start to unravel quickly from the moment of complete randomness involving a stray cat appearing at Bateman's feet, followed by an ATM message asking him to feed a stray cat... (yes, that's it). definitely where we enter a state of hallucinatory bewilderment). In the same move, Patrick shoots a lady and is forced to run from the police. Everything that follows is done by chance on totally empty streets, and in New York that just isn't the reality (regardless of the time of day). Hello! It is one of the most populated cities in the world. And if that wasn't enough to highlight how far we've come down the rabbit hole, watching Patrick defy all logic and blow up multiple police cars at gunpoint should do the trick. There's a touch of genius to Bale's performance throughout the scene, where he strangely marvels at what just happened and moves to check his watch (as if to indicate the night is still young). From there, he swiftly kills a security guard at one building (and hilariously spares another) as well as a janitor on his way to another building. Bateman turns on a dime, from frantic to paranoid, so much so that he gets confused trying to locate the building he works in. Once inside, he hides under the table out of the line of sight of a circling helicopter (lights are shown moving accompanied by propeller sounds). Personally, I go back and forth between viewings to see if the helicopter is really there or if it's just another manifestation of his paranoia, which now increases to eleven. What follows is perhaps the most powerful scene in the film, in which Patrick calls his lawyer Harold Carnes (he calls him Howard instead). Unfortunately, he picks up the answering machine and decides to leave a detailed taped confession, capped off with the important revelation that he killed Paul Allen (with an ax to the face).

One could easily apologize for seeing things in only one light, at least until the vital scene that follows, where Patrick returns to the scene of the crime. That scene is Paul Allen's upper apartment, the crime is the murder of several women. It takes Bateman a minute to realize that the very apartment he is now in has been cleaned, freshly painted (all white), and apparently put up for sale (as evidenced by the woman walking a couple). I guess you know how the New York real estate market works! Patrick opens the closet where the plastic-wrapped bodies of two young women hung, only to find commercial painting equipment. Plus, the next room, once smeared with blood-soaked walls and scattered body parts, now feels like a million bucks (too much, if I know my housing market). The most common automatic response from viewers after this revelation is that it was probably all just in your head – hold on to that thought and keep reading.

The socialite agent approaches Patrick and asks if this is Paul Allen's home. He asks her if Paul lives there, to which she says no (but how would she know?). She snaps back at Patrick, mentioning if she saw the ad for the apartment in the Times, a comment that ends up catching him in a lie. She seems wary of the entire interaction and quickly asks him to leave and not cause any trouble. It's important to note that she never mentions calling the authorities if he refuses. I wonder why this could be? Could it be that in a world inhabited by so many people oriented to material gain, a life built on consumerism, could an individual have seen the perfect opportunity to profit from the misfortune of others? I don't think it's that hard to imagine the woman (who may already own other tenants in the building) stumbling upon a grisly crime scene and seeing it as the best real estate it is, an avenue to turn a sizable profit. of. She probably could have paid a few people, gotten a cleaning crew, applied several coats of fresh paint, and put it on the market all the while knowing that something horrible had happened there. What are the chances that the perpetrator will return to the scene of the crime? The chances would probably be slim to none, so why not? After all, every investment is a gamble, right? Did the woman gamble and take an opportunity? Or did Patrick imagine himself killing these women?

This is not an exit.

Now we come to the climax of American Psycho and the scene inside Harry's Bar between Bateman and Harold Carnes (his lawyer). With all his dirty clothes aired out (and they're as dirty as they come), Patrick confronts Carnes to find out if he got the message from him, and the answer he finds isn't ideal. It seems that Harold took the confession as a joke, something clearly common among co-workers. Carnes mistakes Patrick for a Davis and goes on to tell him that it was a funny joke, but his fatal flaw was making Bateman the butt of the joke instead of Bryce or McDermott. Patrick reiterates that it's Bateman and that the two of them talk all the time on the phone and wonders why Carnes doesn't recognize him. Could it be that he really isn't Patrick's lawyer, even though Patrick thinks he is? Frustrated and angry, he continues to emphasize that he is actually Bateman and not Davis and that everything he left on the answering machine was true.

Got it, Meats. I killed him. *I'm* Patrick Bateman. I cut off Allen's fucking head.

(Video) American Psycho Analysis: How Clothes Make the Man | Fashion in Film

In the end, it all falls on deaf ears when Carnes tells Bateman that he couldn't have killed Paul Allen because the two had dined in London several times just ten days before. At that very moment, it becomes clear that even Patrick (who's been taking pills) no longer knows top to bottom or exactly where the lines between reality and fantasy can be blurred. This final scene is another one where the viewer tends to fall for the "it's all in his head" argument. While that could be the case, it could also mean that perhaps the man Bateman believed to be Paul Allen wasn't him after all. In fact, not once in any scene does Jared Leto (credited as Paul Allen) actually refer to himself as Paul Allen, it's just something others do. Perhaps in the same way that Patrick does when someone calls him Marcus, Paul just accepts the name anyway. And given what we know about the mistaken identity and that everyone is guilty of it, who knows who Patrick actually killed? If someone? He desperately wants to be vindicated for everything he believes he's done, but he can't find anyone who will listen or care. When all is said and done, it doesn't matter what we, the public, believe, and more specifically, what Bateman believes. You can't admit something when no one accuses you of anything.

There are no barriers to cross anymore. Everything I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the wicked, all the chaos I caused and my total indifference to it, is now over. My pain is constant and sharp, and I don't expect a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I don't want anyone to run away. But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis; my punishment continues to elude me and I am unable to gain a deeper knowledge of myself. New knowledge cannot be extracted from my account. This confession meant nothing.

To use some of Bateman's words, American Psycho is deep and rich. Its layered themes and complex subconscious make it endlessly reassessable. I find the balance between horror and satire in the material to be second to none. The cast is phenomenal, the direction is inventive, and the message is strong, for better or worse. American Psycho is a rare breed in a genre all its own, and a film worthy of constant deconstruction and continued debate as we rapidly approach its 25th anniversary.