Today we are going to look at the scary 2000 movie, “American Psycho.” It’s just as well a woman directed this flick. She’s changed a novel about blood envy into a movie about men’s pride. A male director might have thought Patrick Bateman, the hero of “American Psycho,” was a serial killer because of psychological twists, but Mary Harron sees him as a guy who’s victim to the usual male forces and obligations. He just acts out a little more.
Most men are not chain-saw killers. They only act that way while doing business. Look at the traders clawing each other on the floor of the stock exchange. Listen to used-car dealers trying to unload extra stock on one another. Consider the pleasure where one mega supercorp stock-raids another and takes down its leaders. Roger Ebert advised, “Study such films as "In the Company of Men," "Glengarry Glen Ross," "Boiler Room" and the new "The Big Kahuna." It's a dog-eat-dog world, and to survive you'd better be White Fang.”
Ebert went on to say, “As a novel, Bret Easton Ellis' 1991 best seller was passed from one publisher to another like a hot potato.” As a film project, it went through screenplays, directors and stars for years. It was picked up for Oliver Stone, who planned to get Leonardo DiCaprio, before ending up with Harron who put Christian Bale in the lead. (Ebert said, “To imagine this material in Stone's hands, recall the scene in Ken Russell's "The Music Lovers" where Tchaikovsky's head explodes during the "1812 Overture," then spin it out to feature length.”)
Harron is less impressed by the evil Patrick Bateman than a man might have been, perhaps because as a woman who directs movies, she deals every day with guys who resemble Bateman in everything except his body count. She sense the connection between the time Bateman spends in the morning, lovingly applying male facial products, and the way he blows away people who bother him, anger him or simply have the bad luck to be within his vicinity. He is a narcissist driven by ego and increased by greed. Most of his victims are women, but in a steal, a man will do.
The film observes the male executive lifestyle with the devotion of an engrossment. Ebert mentioned, “There is a scene where a group of businessmen compare their business cards, discussing the wording, paper thickness, finish, embossing, engraving and typefaces, and they might as well be discussing their phalli.” Their passionate lack of confidence is cleared as card desire. They carry on harsh competitions expressed in clothes, offices, salaries and being able to get good tables in important restaurants. It is their uneasy secret that they make enough money to afford to look important, but are not very important. One of the film’s running jokes is that Bateman looks so much like one of his colleagues, played by Jared Leto, that they are mistaken for each other. (Their faces aren’t really identical, but they take up empty space in a lot of the same way.)
The film and the book are infamous because Bateman murders a lot of people in gruesome ways. Ebert admitted, “I have overheard debates about whether some of the murders are fantasies ("can a man really aim a chain saw that well?").” Every murder is equally real or unreal, and that isn’t the point: The purpose of the murders is to make visible the rage of the defensive male when his will is frustrated. The movie gives shape and form to road rage, golf course rage, family abuse and some of the horrifying behavior patterns of sports fans.
You see why Harron has called the film “feminist.” So it is – and a slander against the many sensible, calm and civilized men it does not describe. However, it’s true to a type, all right. Ebert mentioned, “It sees Bateman in a clear, sharp, satiric light, and it despises him.” Christian Bale is heroic in the way he lets the character to jump happily into despicability. There is no character for self-preservation here, and this is one mark of a good actor.
When Bateman kills, it is not with the passion of a villain from a slasher movie. Ebert said, “It is with the thoroughness of a hobbyist.” Lives could have been saved if instead of living in an apartment, Batman had been given with a basement, a workbench and lot of nails to beat.
This is indeed one of the scariest, most messed up movies you will ever see. However, it suits for this month in order to get everyone prepared for Halloween. I would definitely say to check it out, but be aware of all the scary moments in this movie.
Would you actually believe that they made an atrocious direct-to-video sequel in 2002? Well they did, and boy does it suck. Let’s dive into it, shall we?
Almar Hafildason from BBC mentioned, “Imagine if the characters of the animated series "Scooby-Doo" were to turn on one another, and you'll be close to imagining the freakish "American Psycho II".” Looking like a “Scream”-styled take on serial killer thrillers, this horrendous sequel of a movie thrashes floppily between bizarre comedy and pale horror.
If you saw “American Psycho,” then you’ll know what happened to the charming Patrick Bateman. He appears in flashbacks in this sequel, but only as a mixing up mute who’s clearly not Christian Bale but instead is Michael Kremko.
As it turns out, a young woman called Rachael Newman, played by Jenna Perry, had a direct hand in his fate, after ending up at his house courtesy of her babysitter.
Years pass and Newman, now played by Mila Kunis, makes it to college, where she wants to become an assistant to the legendary serial killer hunter, Professor “Bobby” Strickland, played by Captain Admiral James T. Kirk himself, William Shatner, who Hafildason said, “he of mighty red face.”
Only trouble is, she’s got competition from the other students. Her kind of drastic solution is to kill them, getting inspiration from Bateman’s own methods.
Hafildason mentioned, “Morgan J Freeman's roots as a director on the teen show Dawson's Creek shine through heavily in a film that looks like a TV pilot made for a bet.”
Additionally, Freeman must have staggered upon the wrong “Guide to Sequel-Making,” as this movie has little to do with its predecessor.
Hafildason went on to say, “The only charm comes from William Shatner's Rip Van Winkle-esque, bourbon-swilling character, who's very much up for some intimate tuition with his female students.”
Plus, you do get to see his hyperventilating look blown out of a window, and Ricky Martin microwaved (you’ll see), so this film does have its exclusive basics.
Hafildason ended the review by saying, “As for the rest of the cast, a troupe of dancing Coke cans would have more acting gravitas in this deliriously poor spoof of serial killer flicks.”
Want my advice: stay away from this movie as far as you can. It’s a giant slap in the face of what made the first one so great. “American Psycho II” is one of the worst sequels ever, especially since this is direct-to-video, which is set to be doomed.
Now that I got that out of the way, look out tomorrow when I have more scares to deliver to you in “Halloween Month.”
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