American Psycho was basically £2 in HMV and, having heard plenty of good things about the movie, thought I’d give it a try. At first, it was okay, and when the violence started to rear its head it made me feel uncomfortable, which was kind of the point. Otherwise, though, it was a proper hard slog.
Bateman is self-defined by the clothes he wears, the products he uses, where he socialises. And, naturally, his psychopathic desires. It had its moments of being witty, and a lot of the time I could see what he was trying to do or create in the pages, but I really didn’t care.
It may be described as a collision of America’s greatest dream – and its worst nightmare, but I could not for the life of me get into it.