American Psycho

Isn’t it amazing how many movies have come out lately about how immaterial materialism is? First there was American Beauty which told us that, no matter how expensive the couch is, it should be ok to have sex on it. Then there was Fight Club. It told us that the things we own might end up owning us and that we are not beautiful and unique snowflakes. These, of course, were two of the best movies of 1999, a year full of great and innovative movies.

Now comes American Psycho. Yes, on the surface it’s an exploitive romp inside the mind of a serial killing yuppie in 1988. But if you probe not too far under that surface story you’ll find out what it’s really about.

The surface story is of Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale), a young man who is so intent on fitting in and looking good that he doesn’t even notice that he looks just like everybody else. He listens to music that he might not even like just because it’s “cool.” He won’t go anyplace where he doesn’t need a reservation. He even watches himself while he’s having sex with two women. This is about as low as you can get on the ego food chain. He has become the kind of plastic robot that we all learned to hate back in the late 80s.

That’s not even the real problem with Pat. He seems to be perfect: perfect fiancee (Reese Witherspoon), perfect secretary who also happens to be in love with him (Chloe Sevigny from Kids and Boys Don’t Cry), perfect body, perfect friends. But there’s a great big, awful, nasty problem: He really enjoys killing people.

He starts (as far as we know) with a bum who doesn’t seem to understand the concept of “get a job.” Then he moves on to his “friend” Paul Allen (Jared Leto from Girl, Interrupted, Fight Club and Prefontaine) who happens to have better business cards than he does and always confuses him with someone else. This is the murder we’ve all heard about where he pontificates about the importance of Sports in the career of Huey Lewis And The News. (Although he doesn’t seem to know quite enough about them. He says that Sports came out in 1983…it actually came out in 84. Am I letting my geek flag fly too high? Who cares. I like Huey. There. I’ve said it.) His happy dance around his posh upscale apartment just before he drives an ax into Paul’s face is hilarious.

Things go downhill for Pat after this. A nosy cop (Willem Defoe) keeps questioning him about the “disappearance” of Paul. (But someone said that they saw him in London two days after his murder. Hmmm. Just another case of mistaken identity?) His girlfriend is getting more and more needy. His stuff is constantly under scrutiny by his friends. Paul has a better apartment than he does and everyone has better cards. What’s a poor yuppie to do?

Kill more people, of course!

The movie pretty much goes on like this for a while until a finale that leaves you with more questions than answers: Did he actually kill Paul or someone else? Was he confused with someone else? Did he kill anyone at all? But it lets you know that you’re not getting out easy. The whole ending is summed up in one shot of Pat in front of a door with a “This is not an exit” sign on it.

Along those lines, throughout the movie I was asking myself one question: Why does Pat kill? Does he do it because he really likes it? Or does he actually use it as a outlet to be different from everyone else? He’s spent his entire adult life trying to be just like everyone else, but does he really want to be different? Does he want to leave behind a legacy that’s new and exciting in a twisted way as opposed to leaving behind just a bunch of paperwork and a cool car? We don’t get the answer, but that’s what makes this movie the movie the The Minus Man really, really wanted to be.

Christian Bale put in a performance of a lifetime here. This guy has grown from extremely gifted child actor (Henry V, Empire Of The Sun–one of my all-time favorite flicks) to one of the best unsung actors of his generation. I’m thinking he’s not going to be unsung anymore. He put so much glee into the murder scenes that he almost makes you happy he did it. He was funny and disturbing all at the same time. Then, after playing Pat as a plastic anti-hero, he turns him around near the end. He goes to almost human when he starts to think that he may not have gotten away with it. Then, when the answer is obvious (to him, anyway) he goes back to the robot we all knew and loved. Amazing job that I hope gets some recognition.

And for all of you out there who think that this is just another gore fest, it’s not. There’s not really that much violence shown on screen. It all takes place off camera with only the aftermath sometimes shown. And, yeah, that can be pretty bad, but we never see the ax fall on Paul. We only hear the sweet strains of “Hip To Be Square.” (A perfect song for Mr. Bateman.) And what’s wrong with that?

I kept thinking what a great double feature this would make with Wall Street. Both are about 80s greed culture and how evil it can really be. Both feature monsters of a sort. And both were made by very talented directors. (In fact, Oliver Stone was up to direct this one. Whew!) Mary Harron brought an edge to the material that I don’t think Stone could these days. He just doesn’t seem to be up to it anymore. (Did you see Any Given Sunday? Yech!) And she made what could have been just another serial killer flick with a “message” up a notch to being a great film about greed and materialism that happens to have a few murders in it. It’s no Psycho, but it’s at least a step above the entire slasher flick genre. (But get Pat’s last name. Homage?)