Shocking only in its mediocrity...

Rating: 5/10 (11 November 2000)

I may be in a decided minority in feeling that Mary Harron has, thus far, built a career on draining all excitement from her material. I Shot Andy Warhol featured a number of interesting performances and a fine script, but the direction completely dulled any of the fun that you would expect from the Warhol Factory and its hangers-on. Similarly, with her adaptation of American Psycho, Harron has gotten a number of fine performances from her cast, and the writing seems sharp, but the direction is so completely without the necessary flair that it seems largely lacking as a whole.
Bret Easton Ellis's novel of Yuppie Decadence was only barely cutting edge when it came out. Readers have mistake Ellis's flamboyant writing style for substance, ignoring the fact that even in the mid to late 80s, social critics didn't really feel like the decade had much depth. The book is a violent satire that naysayers misread as literal, but which its cult (and it seems that thousands of people still love the book for whatever reason) have mistaken for profound. However, say what you will about it's quality, the book is either a fantastic success or a thunderous failure. It's hard to be ambivalent.
Harron's movie, though, can easily produce a ho-hum reaction. It seems counterproductive to mention it, but it's almost unavoidable to think of what might have happened had the film been made by Oliver Stone and Leonardo DiCaprio, who were both rumoured to be interested at one point. Stone would have been the perfect director to handle the material for better or for worse. In my opinion, Stone probably would have made a horrible, flashy, loud, misguided movie, much in the tradition of Brian DePalma's awe-inspiringly wrong-headed Bonfire of the Vanities. But he could have made the film another Wall Street, a brilliant satire. Similarly, it's very possible that DiCaprio would have been so miscast as to make the film laughable. Or he may have given a wonderful and unexpected performance. Regardless, the film would have been alive.
It's not really Harron's fault that the material is dated. Ellis at least was working in his contemporary milieu. Some of his observations may have seemed biting. For Harron to mine humour from the killer's passion for Phil Collins seems counter productive. The jokes are just obvious. American Psycho has no more currency than any other piece of 80s parody or nostalgia. It's more like Romy and Michelle Kill Everyone at Their High School Reunion.
But the film still remains watchable. And, even more surprising, after being forced to watch the film a second time, it didn't get any worse, as such surface glosses often tend to. Christian Bale's performance is a comedic masterwork, a super combination of flawlessly dark line readings and chilling physical comedy. Bale certainly has never had so much fun in a film before and it's doubtful that he'll ever get such juicy material again. Willem Defoe is similarly relishes his role as a slightly daffy private eye. However, in keeping with the piece, much of the rest of the cast seems to be sleepwalking through their performances. Samantha Mathis, Reese Witherspoon, Chloe Sevigny, and Jared Leto all play desicated characters, so it isn't surprising that none of them have the chance to do their best work.
American Psycho is violent, but not overwhelmingly so. It's sexual, but not enough to really offend anybody. And it's intense, but probably not enough to endanger old hearts. The question with Ellis's book was always whether or not it could be adapted for the screen. Well, clearly it can be. The only question remaining is whether Mary Harron should have bothered.
I'd give it a generous 6/10, largely because it didn't bore me the second time around.