Its central character, Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale), is a yuppie of 27 in Wall Street in 1986, obsessed with status symbols, self-confessedly as empty of feeling as his gleaming desk top is of honest labour.
He escorts us through his morning agenda of toilet ablutions, bathroom anointment and wardrobe adornments as if man were the sum of his beauty products.
Feeling alienated by his yuppie lifestyle, he embarks on a psychopathic killing spree: murdering colleges, homeless people, animals, and prostitutes.
His wall-flush stainless-steel refrigerator is stocked with a human head, for snacks. Before he teasingly deliberates whether to use chainsaw or nail-gun on his female victims, he treats them to an extended criticism of the CD he feels suits his slaughterous mood. Phil Collins comes off best.
The social satire and subtle critique of the yuppie culture is apparent throughout. Everyone looks the same--perfectly groomed, nice haircuts and expensive suits. They share one interest --money--and that's all they care about. Everyone is having an affair, and getting up all sorts of debauchery in private, but in public they are all respectable, well educated, pillars of society.
However, the facade of respectability is beginning to slip for Patrick Bateman. A detective begins to investigate the disappearance of the college he chopped up with an axe, and his secretory becomes concerned about his erratic behavior.
In the end though, no one suspects him of anything, even after he confesses to his lawyer. Even the detective seems to respect him, and at no point suspects him of foul-play. As far a society is concerned, Patrick Bateman remains a respectable business man. If the film proves anything, its that money talks.
No more Jehovah's witnesses please |
The claret is flowing throughout the film. This scene is the best, not just because of the gore, but because of how lucky he was to make the shot with the chainsaw.
"Christy, get down on your knees so Sabrina can see your asshole." - Patrick Bateman
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