American Psycho
Lions Gate, 2000
Directed by Mary Harron
$$$1/2
Nothing can top the pure genius of Bret Easton Ellis' cult novel American Psycho. But Mary Harron's faithful indie film version comes satisfyingly close to being the cinematic equivalent.
The decade is the 80s, the protagonist/narrator is Patrick Bateman, a 27-year old Wall Street big shot who also happens to be a homicidal maniac. The film, like the book is a brutally dark parody of shallowness, greed and materialism of yuppie culture. Christian Bale (who once upon a time played the kid in Steven Spielberg's Empire of the Sun) fills Bateman's Valentino suits and chiseled body to perfection. Bale gets the character's arrogance and self-fascination just right. (Thank god, Leo DiCaprio turned the role down.) Oddly, it also helps that Bale is a Brit -- as a result his accent turns out to be a little too American; his voice ends up sounding like a slight parody of an American accent and it helps to make Bateman, appropriately, more cartoonish.
Readers of the book will find that Harron drastically tones down the level of violence. Sure, there are quick flashes of blood, but most of the carnage happens off camera or is merely cleverly suggested. Example: Bateman meets a blond model and gets into a cab with her -- cut to: Bateman sitting in his office the next day, holding a lock of her hair between his fingers. We know we will never see that Blond alive again, but we don't witness her death. It's a smart choice, allowing the audience to laugh at Bateman's murderous insanity rather than be horrified by it. If more than a fraction of the book's bloodiness made it on screen, people would run screaming from the theater.
Harron and co-screenwriter, Guinevere Turner, also do a nice job of getting Bateman's interior monologue into the film. They're also to be commended for working his gloriously insipid music reviews into the dialogue.
Additionally, it can't be overlooked that Harron brings a woman's perspective to the material. She shows Bateman and his Yuppie cohorts as completely sexist creatures who treat women as objects to be acquired for the sole purpose of providing satisfaction. Harron has the least regard for the women who allow themselves to become Bateman's playthings -- it's telling that they come off looking more pathetic than the man who commits one murder after another. The only woman on screen with a slight amount of respect for herself is the only woman who's allowed to escape Bateman's brutality.
It's also comes as a pleasant surprise that Harron retains the novel's ambiguous ending. Bottom line: it's a good thing this project never got made at a major studio.
(c) Copyright 2000