Delving under the skin of ‘American Psycho’s Patrick Bateman
“I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust.” – Patrick Bateman.
Patrick Bateman is the archetype psychopath. On the ‘Hare Psychopathy Checklist’ there are 20 discreet criteria that score a psycho – these include superficial charm, grandiose sense of self-worth, an excessive need for stimulation, pathological lying, manipulation, no remorse, a lack of an emotional reaction, a lack of empathy, sexual promiscuity, behavioural problems, a lack of long-term goals, impulsivity, a lack of responsibility and criminal diversity – Bateman scores highly on all of these. Worryingly, about one in every 100 people also score highly, and quite often these folks rise to prominent positions in society.
It is notable, however, that he is dubbed the American Psycho with a degree of definitiveness. Bret Easton Ellis’ shocking novel is titled with an assertive authority. Patrick Bateman is the archetype red, white and blue psycho by design. The ultimate uncaring capitalist crackpot. Ellis’ creation might be just about as obscene as literature could ever get, but there is a notable point to this disgusting degeneracy.
While in the movie there is a degree of ambiguity left lingering about whether he really is a serial killer, that same asterisk does not really exist in the original, truly unfilmable novel. The crux of the book is to point a finger at the faceless conformity of yuppies, how this lets them get away with murder (this time in a literal sense), and the havoc that they wreak on society. It’s quite natural that the film adaptation couldn’t quite convey this entirely.
If you have ever read American Psycho, then it is a scientific certainty that you have uttered something along the lines of “who the hell thought of making this into a movie”. That is by no means a slight on the quality of Bret Easton Ellis’ novel, more so the inevitable knee jerk that comes from reading such profane violence.
However, Christian Bale is able to perfectly transpose the character, in what must surely be the most exacting book to big screen performance by any actor in history. He is so perfectly faithful to the character that it is almost impossible to re-read the novel without affecting an internalised impression of the star himself. He ticks the boxes on the Hare checklist with sickening aplomb.
The inspiration for this uber authentic performance, however, did not come from the novel alone. One of the key influences on Bale was fellow actor Tom Cruise, because who else was it going to be?
In an interview with Black Book, director Mary Harron, revealed the Cruise connection, when discussing the development of the character with Bale, “It was definitely a process. […] We talked about how Martian-like Patrick Bateman was, how he was looking at the world like somebody from another planet, watching what people did and trying to work out the right way to behave. And then one day he called me and he had been watching Tom Cruise on David Letterman, and he just had this very intense friendliness with nothing behind the eyes, and he was really taken with this energy.”
This supposed superficial charm is summed up by the character himself. “…there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there. It is hard for me to make sense on any given level. Myself is fabricated, an aberration. I am a noncontingent human being. My personality is sketchy and unformed, my heartlessness goes deep and is persistent. My conscience, my pity, my hopes disappeared a long time ago (probably at Harvard) if they ever did exist,” he openly decrees.
Thus, with that in mind, it is almost impossible to delve under the skin of Bateman, there is nothing there but a callous disregard for life and madness. He is an abstraction. A literal manifestation of the evils of corporate ethics (or lack thereof). He looks presentable, in fact, he is almost motivational in this sense—some sort of polished model to strive toward as you wallow in sweatpants in your own festering domain while he sits ten stories higher on the ladder of society.
However, this face masks an immorality that lingers beyond any due reason—he is the manifestation of chaos in an uncaring world. Unshackled by any responsibility or reparations, he will go on killing, because ultimately, greed and disgust is the only thing that fuels him. And yet somehow, this monster is so commonplace and identity-devoid that you could confuse him with Paul Allen or some other baseless shell in a suit debasing society.
It is of little consolation that the ways of his evil inevitably perpetuate a psychosis in Bateman himself. He is tortured by a retribution long beyond his reconciliation. He is driven mad by his own wanton chaos and he cannot stop, the beast must keep moving. The killing machine churns on, barely even stopping to return video tapes. This seems all the more prescient in the current climate when his murderous spree is set to hit new depths as society is plunged further into corporate chaos by people who look great.
