# American Psycho (2000)

### reviewed by
James Sanford

Did Bret Easton Ellis' "American Psycho" have to be made into a movie in the first place? Probably not, but since someone chose to do it, we should be grateful that person was director-screenwriter Mary Harron, who at least had the good sense to turn the stomach-churning book into a satire of American morals in the last days of the Reagan Administration. And Harron also made an excellent choice in picking Christian Bale to play anti-hero Patrick Bateman, a Wall Street shark who's more interested in murder than in the markets. As a result, "American Psycho" the film is exceptionally well-played and Harron's screenplay (co-written with "Go Fish" director Guinevere Turner) is often hilarious and extremely creepy at the same time. Given the subject matter, this is about the best result the people behind the movie could have hoped for.

The people most likely to be disappointed by Harron and Turner's adaptation are those looking for non-stop carnage and gore. Harron instead keeps most of the violence offscreen or in shadows, making this film seem downright tame next to "Natural Born Killers" or even your average teen slasher flick.

Although Bale, the young Welsh actor who initially burst onto the scene as the star of Steven Spielberg's grim epic "Empire of the Sun" 13 years ago, has given some sharp performances in the past (particularly in the largely unseen "Metroland" and in the Winona Ryder version of "Little Women"), he sets a new standard for himself here. >From the outside, his Bateman is the walking embodiment of male vanity -- his medicine cabinet is stocked with honey-almond body scrubs and herbal-mint facial masks and he refuses to use aftershaves containing alcohol because alcohol "dries out your skin and makes you look older" -- and fastidiousness. He's the type who won't set a glass down without making sure there's a coaster to put underneath it.

He speaks to his friends and associates in a plastic, faux-cheerful voice, but, when necessary, he can quickly switch over to a hollow, mock-sympathetic drone that sounds as if he's hosting a telethon for a cause he's doesn't really believe in. He works out obsessively, fusses over his clothes and watches and keeps his Manhattan apartment spookily spotless.

The fashionable exterior cloaks a truly sick mind, however. While pretending to help out a homeless man, Bateman seizes the opportunity to stab the guy to death and then to stomp on the victim's dog. He sees bizarre messages on the screen of his ATM. He hires call girls for dates that end with the women heading to the emergency room.

Yet he finds a kind of justification for his bloodlust in the lyrics to such Yuppie anthems as "The Greatest Love of All." "In this world we live in, it's impossible to empathize with others," he notes. "But we can always empathize with ourselves." Bateman often takes time to recite his ridiculous mini-discertations on pop music, usually just before doing something horrible; when he turns on Huey Lewis and the News' "Hip to Be Square," his guest had better watch his back.

"American Psycho" relies heavily on Bale since it really doesn't have much of a story to tell. It's certainly not a mystery or a thriller and, because the movie's biggest joke turns out to be that nobody except his secretary (Chloe Sevigny) and his snippy fiancee (Reese Witherspoon) seems to know who Bateman is anyway, there isn't much suspense as to whether or not he'll get away with his crimes.

It's impossible to imagine Leonardo DiCaprio, who was reportedly courted to play Bateman, pulling off this role. But Bale, with his wholesome good looks and x-ray stare, plays it for all its worth and then some. Even as the movie becomes progressively surrealistic in its last half hour -- it reaches a peak around the time Bateman runs naked through the hallway of a high-rise while brandishing a chainsaw -- Bale doesn't allow his character to become a cartoon, which makes Bateman that much scarier. James Sanford

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