Spoilers.
First, any film that requires the viewer to read the novel it was based on is automatically a failure. Fortunately, that is not true of American Psycho. While reading the novel may help, the film successfully stands on its own. I haven't read the novel yet, and my comments will refer to the film alone.
Second, the film should be regarded strictly as a satire and all the events and plot twists are in service to that purpose. If the viewer encounters elements that do not seem believable on a realistic level, then that viewer should look for an allegorical meaning instead. The advertising for American Psycho, in its attempt to draw in a wider audience, did it an injustice by making it seem to be a thriller or psychological portrait of a serial killer. The film is neither of these genres. The film is about the violent and soulless greed of the eighties, the carnage that this greed caused, and the utter failure of justice to correct or even learn from the catastrophe that followed. When we keep these themes in mind, the characters and events of the film are far more understandable.
On the larger scale, the film comments upon the destruction wrought by the eighties greed, which is best exemplified by the Savings and Loan collapse. These financial failures are like the mangled bodies of psychotic killers, raped and killed with impunity. The justice system seemed utterly impotent in the face of such well-mannered and slick criminals. These corporate killers showed brazen lack of concern about getting caught; nonetheless they escaped justice. Their charmed life always magically provided someone to clean up their messes. Detective Kimball's failure to figure out the truth reflects the law's inability to impose justice upon this situation.
Patrick Bateman is both an exemplar of the shallowness and obsession for surfaces of the era and a failure by its standards. Despite obsessively conforming to the mores of his social circle ("I just want to fit in"), he nonetheless fails to succeed in the continuous competition with his peers, so amusingly depicted in the scene of business card envy. His inward emptiness is displayed by the lavish praise and attention he gives to the blandest of pop music--Phil Collins is the most sublime experience Bateman is capable of. As a consequence of his ability to gain the respect of his colleagues, he also fails to distinguish himself as an individual apart from the multitude of empty suits that comprise his social circle. This lack of determinate personality explains the constant mistaking of his identity by his peers and their refusal to believe that the `lightweight' Bateman is capable of committing deeds not only terrible but decisive.
The paradox of Bateman's intense desire to succeed lies in the attempt to create an authentic personality by conforming to social standards that make it impossible to distinguish oneself except by winning the endless competition over externals: the most stylish apartment, the bigger account, the best business card. Bateman fails in each of these competitions and each failure leads to a violent episode of sex and murder. He too shows complete disregard for the consequences and fails to take even the most basic precautions against discovery; he leaves trails of blood in the lobby of his building, occupies the apartment of the victim for whose disappearance he is being investigated, runs naked through the halls of an apartment house chasing a screaming prostitute while brandishing a chainsaw, and so on. As the film near its conclusion, it seems that Bateman can't possibly escape, but like his brothers in the financial massacre, everything, even his repeated confession, is magically overlooked, ignored, and disbelieved.
In the final scene, Bateman and his colleagues sit in a yuppie bar looking up at the television screen, admiring Ronald Reagan for his inner ruthlessness. This scene recalls the conclusion of 1984, in which a defeated Winston Smith sits sipping Victory gin in the Victory café, crying tears of love for the image of Big Brother on the monitor and confessing to crimes he did not commit. Smith's inner self has been exterminated and all that remains is a shell able to think only what it has been conditioned to think. In the same vein, Bateman's desperate attempt to become a person has also been crushed, but not by the same means. The charmed life that saves him from the law is also his curse. Bateman comes to the realization that we cannot gain wisdom and self-knowledge from our crimes unless they are recognized as crimes and are punished accordingly. He remains the empty suit.
First, any film that requires the viewer to read the novel it was based on is automatically a failure. Fortunately, that is not true of American Psycho. While reading the novel may help, the film successfully stands on its own. I haven't read the novel yet, and my comments will refer to the film alone.
Second, the film should be regarded strictly as a satire and all the events and plot twists are in service to that purpose. If the viewer encounters elements that do not seem believable on a realistic level, then that viewer should look for an allegorical meaning instead. The advertising for American Psycho, in its attempt to draw in a wider audience, did it an injustice by making it seem to be a thriller or psychological portrait of a serial killer. The film is neither of these genres. The film is about the violent and soulless greed of the eighties, the carnage that this greed caused, and the utter failure of justice to correct or even learn from the catastrophe that followed. When we keep these themes in mind, the characters and events of the film are far more understandable.
On the larger scale, the film comments upon the destruction wrought by the eighties greed, which is best exemplified by the Savings and Loan collapse. These financial failures are like the mangled bodies of psychotic killers, raped and killed with impunity. The justice system seemed utterly impotent in the face of such well-mannered and slick criminals. These corporate killers showed brazen lack of concern about getting caught; nonetheless they escaped justice. Their charmed life always magically provided someone to clean up their messes. Detective Kimball's failure to figure out the truth reflects the law's inability to impose justice upon this situation.
Patrick Bateman is both an exemplar of the shallowness and obsession for surfaces of the era and a failure by its standards. Despite obsessively conforming to the mores of his social circle ("I just want to fit in"), he nonetheless fails to succeed in the continuous competition with his peers, so amusingly depicted in the scene of business card envy. His inward emptiness is displayed by the lavish praise and attention he gives to the blandest of pop music--Phil Collins is the most sublime experience Bateman is capable of. As a consequence of his ability to gain the respect of his colleagues, he also fails to distinguish himself as an individual apart from the multitude of empty suits that comprise his social circle. This lack of determinate personality explains the constant mistaking of his identity by his peers and their refusal to believe that the `lightweight' Bateman is capable of committing deeds not only terrible but decisive.
The paradox of Bateman's intense desire to succeed lies in the attempt to create an authentic personality by conforming to social standards that make it impossible to distinguish oneself except by winning the endless competition over externals: the most stylish apartment, the bigger account, the best business card. Bateman fails in each of these competitions and each failure leads to a violent episode of sex and murder. He too shows complete disregard for the consequences and fails to take even the most basic precautions against discovery; he leaves trails of blood in the lobby of his building, occupies the apartment of the victim for whose disappearance he is being investigated, runs naked through the halls of an apartment house chasing a screaming prostitute while brandishing a chainsaw, and so on. As the film near its conclusion, it seems that Bateman can't possibly escape, but like his brothers in the financial massacre, everything, even his repeated confession, is magically overlooked, ignored, and disbelieved.
In the final scene, Bateman and his colleagues sit in a yuppie bar looking up at the television screen, admiring Ronald Reagan for his inner ruthlessness. This scene recalls the conclusion of 1984, in which a defeated Winston Smith sits sipping Victory gin in the Victory café, crying tears of love for the image of Big Brother on the monitor and confessing to crimes he did not commit. Smith's inner self has been exterminated and all that remains is a shell able to think only what it has been conditioned to think. In the same vein, Bateman's desperate attempt to become a person has also been crushed, but not by the same means. The charmed life that saves him from the law is also his curse. Bateman comes to the realization that we cannot gain wisdom and self-knowledge from our crimes unless they are recognized as crimes and are punished accordingly. He remains the empty suit.