AMERICAN PSYCHO: FIRST IMPRESSIONS
I was a little sceptical about posting this, since I'm not sure whether anyone's initial thoughts of a film (least of all mine with all their lack of structure or insight) are enough to warrant a cohesive review. This, I think, is especially true of a film like American Psycho, which deserves to be doted on and mulled over after much chin stroking and a fair bit of research. I know that after writing this, the first thing I'll be doing is hitting the internet for as many "American Psycho: ending explained" YouTube videos/articles as I can. That said, I rather feel I need to get something out, to share some of my thoughts so that I can better process everything I've seen. If anything, this will be in interesting exercise in seeing if my mind changes at all after I think about it some more and inevitably re watch. I'll try and keep this from becoming an extended thesis in terms of length and will preface what comes with the caveat that most of it will be completely wrong.
Made in 2000 and starring Christian Bale in a towering performance as big shot Patrick Bateman, American psycho is essentially the tale of big corporate greed on steroids. Bateman is the embodiment of the uber elite 1% of America, a symbol of toxic masculinity and predatory, criminogenic capitalism. I don't use that term lightly, seeing as the film (on paper at least) presents itself as a Marxists worst nightmare. Bateman is a New York investment banking executive with a penchant for the finest suits, the finest apartments, the finest everything. He is the apotheosis of Keeping Up with the Jones', as he fumes at how his business card isn't as nicely embossed as his colleagues, or when he declares to his partner that he does the things he does "Because I want to fit in." This control over every aspect of his life also manifests itself in his clinical morning routine. We spend a great deal of time following him through the various gels, oils and creams he sensually lathers on his angular features in a scene which feels like a cosmetic advertisement cum YouTube skincare tutorial. Yet these meticulous tendencies only betray a deeper level of dark psychotic menace as Bateman's favourite pastime is revealed: violent and random murderous rampages.
Such is the basic plot which I was mostly familiar with before watching. What I wasn't expecting was the films sharp u turn into surrealism in its final act, a bizarre yet not unwelcome descent into the depths of Batemans' mind. I'm a huge fan of surreal moments in films/plays/ novels (surrealist cinema is something I'd definitely like to know more about) and this was no exception. If a film has the confidence to pull the rug out from underneath your feet in such a bold way, I'm going to be impressed from the effort even if its execution doesn't pay off. This also leads nicely into discussions of what was or wasn't real. With this last act, the unreliable narrator is not so much introduced as exposed. The signs were, after all, there all along. Again, this is another rare but very intriguing feature, something in a writers arsenal which should be deployed only when absolutely appropriate to the plot/characters - c.f. Memento and The Usual Suspects for successful uses. Realising that anything we have seen thus far might not have been real, but the product of one of Bateman's psychotic daydreams is a neat way to add an entirely new layer of discussion to what was already a film dripping with allegory and social commentary. I can only imagine the amount of pub conversations in the year 2000 that were initiated by cineasts, desperately trying to unpick the dodgy ontological narrative of American Psycho. But such discussions, in my mind, are entirely unnecessary, and function as a distraction to the more interesting elements the film has to offer.
There's certainly much to be discussed in terms of its economic politics, discussions I'd be more than willing to have. As a raging and unashamed devotee of the work of Noam Chomsky, it's no surprise to say that I'll endorse a screenplay if it has even a peppering of anti-capitalist or corporate America critique. By including those Trump references (for which the irony value has soared through the roof in the 18 years since the films release) and more importantly the Regan clip at the end, American Psycho really solidifies its main thematic heart.
But I think there is a more interesting discussion to be had regarding the films gender politics. And this is, with a deep sigh, where I confess to feeling a certain degree of anxiety about this movie. Firstly, it is important to note that for a well-informed, insightful analysis of American Psycho's relationship to feminism, this is not the place, nor the person to deliver it. Ask a woman who has seen it or read a female critic's review for that. But as a film lover and a blogger, what I can say is that I felt incredibly uncomfortable for much of this film. Bateman's victims aren't bound by gender, but it is clear that he fetishizes the violent dispatch of women. Scenes of sexual coercion, sexual violence and a large female body count indicate that director Mary Harron definitely has something to say about the darker side of masculinity. Bateman boasts the need to promote equal rights to his friends, but is outrageously misogynistic to his secretary, to barmaids, waitresses, just about any woman he interacts with. Seeing as it is directed by a woman, I'm sure (in fact I'm positive) that American Psycho is well intentioned. Such behaviour is meant to signal that the film is here to criticise toxic masculinity and patriarchy, behaviour which is reinforced by the 'rich boys club' setting.
Yet for me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment that a female's vision didn't lead to a more subversive film. Sure, you don't have to have a likeable main character to make such statements ring true (There Will Be Blood is my favourite film of all time and I hate the leads) but for some reason seeing 1 hour and 44 minutes of Bateman's violent, misogynistic escapades left me feeling repulsed, sickened, but not in a way which the film got away with. Unlike There Will Be Blood, I never felt distanced enough from the violent mayhem to not feel overwhelmed by the onscreen onslaught. I couldn't help but feel the film relished in the carnage a little too much, something which I'm sure was far from the directors intention. I suppose this really only exposes the age old debate of whether, by featuring misogyny, art is inherently misogynistic or whether it exposes misogyny.
I'm certainly no expert here (and welcome anyone who feels that I'm wrong on this) but I can't help but feel like in this current wave of feminism, in light of Me Too, if American Psycho were released today we'd all just be fed up of seeing another appalling male character doing appalling things to women and expect to admire the film for exposing misogyny. Ultimately, I can respect Mary Harron's intentions, but feel they weren't executed in the subversive way which such a sensitive (and topical) thematic thread deserves.
Moreover, the lack of consequences for Bateman is, for me at least, something which renders the film a bit of a waste of time. Nearly two hours of watching a rich white man kill and lose his mind and be awful and chop people up, all for his colleagues to be so self obsessed that nobody notices and he gets away with it. Conclusion: uber elite Americans are awful and reinforce each others awfulness. Great. Give me something I don't know. In the end, nothing is learnt, and Bateman goes on to kill another day, unburdened by law or justice or consequence. Such is the journey of the 1%. But then I suppose, that's rather the point of the film isn't it?
Let's just see what a re watch and a heck of a lot of research can offer for a film which I found thought provoking and well crafted, if a tad troublesome...
Made in 2000 and starring Christian Bale in a towering performance as big shot Patrick Bateman, American psycho is essentially the tale of big corporate greed on steroids. Bateman is the embodiment of the uber elite 1% of America, a symbol of toxic masculinity and predatory, criminogenic capitalism. I don't use that term lightly, seeing as the film (on paper at least) presents itself as a Marxists worst nightmare. Bateman is a New York investment banking executive with a penchant for the finest suits, the finest apartments, the finest everything. He is the apotheosis of Keeping Up with the Jones', as he fumes at how his business card isn't as nicely embossed as his colleagues, or when he declares to his partner that he does the things he does "Because I want to fit in." This control over every aspect of his life also manifests itself in his clinical morning routine. We spend a great deal of time following him through the various gels, oils and creams he sensually lathers on his angular features in a scene which feels like a cosmetic advertisement cum YouTube skincare tutorial. Yet these meticulous tendencies only betray a deeper level of dark psychotic menace as Bateman's favourite pastime is revealed: violent and random murderous rampages.
Such is the basic plot which I was mostly familiar with before watching. What I wasn't expecting was the films sharp u turn into surrealism in its final act, a bizarre yet not unwelcome descent into the depths of Batemans' mind. I'm a huge fan of surreal moments in films/plays/ novels (surrealist cinema is something I'd definitely like to know more about) and this was no exception. If a film has the confidence to pull the rug out from underneath your feet in such a bold way, I'm going to be impressed from the effort even if its execution doesn't pay off. This also leads nicely into discussions of what was or wasn't real. With this last act, the unreliable narrator is not so much introduced as exposed. The signs were, after all, there all along. Again, this is another rare but very intriguing feature, something in a writers arsenal which should be deployed only when absolutely appropriate to the plot/characters - c.f. Memento and The Usual Suspects for successful uses. Realising that anything we have seen thus far might not have been real, but the product of one of Bateman's psychotic daydreams is a neat way to add an entirely new layer of discussion to what was already a film dripping with allegory and social commentary. I can only imagine the amount of pub conversations in the year 2000 that were initiated by cineasts, desperately trying to unpick the dodgy ontological narrative of American Psycho. But such discussions, in my mind, are entirely unnecessary, and function as a distraction to the more interesting elements the film has to offer.
There's certainly much to be discussed in terms of its economic politics, discussions I'd be more than willing to have. As a raging and unashamed devotee of the work of Noam Chomsky, it's no surprise to say that I'll endorse a screenplay if it has even a peppering of anti-capitalist or corporate America critique. By including those Trump references (for which the irony value has soared through the roof in the 18 years since the films release) and more importantly the Regan clip at the end, American Psycho really solidifies its main thematic heart.
But I think there is a more interesting discussion to be had regarding the films gender politics. And this is, with a deep sigh, where I confess to feeling a certain degree of anxiety about this movie. Firstly, it is important to note that for a well-informed, insightful analysis of American Psycho's relationship to feminism, this is not the place, nor the person to deliver it. Ask a woman who has seen it or read a female critic's review for that. But as a film lover and a blogger, what I can say is that I felt incredibly uncomfortable for much of this film. Bateman's victims aren't bound by gender, but it is clear that he fetishizes the violent dispatch of women. Scenes of sexual coercion, sexual violence and a large female body count indicate that director Mary Harron definitely has something to say about the darker side of masculinity. Bateman boasts the need to promote equal rights to his friends, but is outrageously misogynistic to his secretary, to barmaids, waitresses, just about any woman he interacts with. Seeing as it is directed by a woman, I'm sure (in fact I'm positive) that American Psycho is well intentioned. Such behaviour is meant to signal that the film is here to criticise toxic masculinity and patriarchy, behaviour which is reinforced by the 'rich boys club' setting.
Yet for me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment that a female's vision didn't lead to a more subversive film. Sure, you don't have to have a likeable main character to make such statements ring true (There Will Be Blood is my favourite film of all time and I hate the leads) but for some reason seeing 1 hour and 44 minutes of Bateman's violent, misogynistic escapades left me feeling repulsed, sickened, but not in a way which the film got away with. Unlike There Will Be Blood, I never felt distanced enough from the violent mayhem to not feel overwhelmed by the onscreen onslaught. I couldn't help but feel the film relished in the carnage a little too much, something which I'm sure was far from the directors intention. I suppose this really only exposes the age old debate of whether, by featuring misogyny, art is inherently misogynistic or whether it exposes misogyny.
I'm certainly no expert here (and welcome anyone who feels that I'm wrong on this) but I can't help but feel like in this current wave of feminism, in light of Me Too, if American Psycho were released today we'd all just be fed up of seeing another appalling male character doing appalling things to women and expect to admire the film for exposing misogyny. Ultimately, I can respect Mary Harron's intentions, but feel they weren't executed in the subversive way which such a sensitive (and topical) thematic thread deserves.
Moreover, the lack of consequences for Bateman is, for me at least, something which renders the film a bit of a waste of time. Nearly two hours of watching a rich white man kill and lose his mind and be awful and chop people up, all for his colleagues to be so self obsessed that nobody notices and he gets away with it. Conclusion: uber elite Americans are awful and reinforce each others awfulness. Great. Give me something I don't know. In the end, nothing is learnt, and Bateman goes on to kill another day, unburdened by law or justice or consequence. Such is the journey of the 1%. But then I suppose, that's rather the point of the film isn't it?
Let's just see what a re watch and a heck of a lot of research can offer for a film which I found thought provoking and well crafted, if a tad troublesome...
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