THERE'S JUST SOMETHING about Patrick Bateman. Wannabes are definitely not a 21st—or even twentieth—century development. What's more, the historical backdrop of American motion pictures, explicitly, has been loaded with them, from the down-and-messy criminals of the 30s, (all things considered, and the films) to Clint Eastwood's baffling exception, The Man with No Name, whose quiet had the abnormal impact of destroying Western fantasies.
But neither of those models comes anyplace close to clarifying the Bret Easton Ellis creation Bateman, who, as clamorously enlivened by Christian Bale in Mary Harron's dimly mocking American Psycho, isn't only a wannabe—since he's a rich elitist who threatens and mercilessly kills ladies and the destitute. He's a screw-up in light of the fact that he's such a dick about it—but then so addictively watchable! No scene better totals up his mysteriously dynamic, ridiculous appeal than Bateman killing an associate while talking on the accepted status of the Huey Lewis and the News banger "Hip to Be Square." And no scene's prevalence is a superior demonstration of our unusually industrialist fondness for terrible men—the sort of social mistake Bateman himself would have railed us for. Curve social references turned into the American pop ethos as of this hollywood movies to avoid anything related to Bale, a chameleonic power we would look for a considerable length of time.
"I felt the crowd could deal with this scene being very comic. More often than not, we kept the lighting in the loft ill humored—however when it came to shooting this scene, I demanded we have every one of the lights on splendid. I needed it to be unforgiving and shaking; I was additionally thinking Kubrick, A Clockwork Orange. In the absolute last take, there was one of those fortunate mishaps that make shooting beneficial: Bateman had quite recently completed the process of murdering Paul Allen in a free for all, and he plunks down on the lounge chair and lights a stogie. As he did as such, I saw that the blood had just splashed one-portion of Christian's face. In profile, he looked practically ordinary—however when you slice to another point, you saw the ridiculous side. When it turned out, the motion picture was cherished and detested in about equivalent measure. It was simply following a couple of years that its notoriety developed in a manner I can't clarify. I think the blend of dark parody and ghastliness and parody was new and awkward, and perhaps that extremely nightmarish representation of society and Wall Street felt increasingly significant as time went on."