American Psycho is a peak into the life of a corporate business man and his fancy designer clothes and restaurant reservations that hide the vices behind self-stature. The main character, Patrick Bateman, presents himself in an obsessive manner; he wears particular tailored suits and has hate debates about who has the best designed business card. A nice border-frame, no doubt, he compliments a co-worker. But behind the mask of presentation, Bateman is a horrible prostitute and woman killer, a man that no one would expect.
The film slowly chronicles the evolution of his conscience: the guilt becomes overbearing, but no one is stopping him. He almost needs someone to tell him its okay to keep him going. And that’s the ultimate satire: a corporate man can kill all he wants and not be found out. Guilty of non-association. The insanity of Bateman, played very creepily by Christian Bale, is the way he thinks its acceptable, and continues his lifestyle unperturbed. He is a connosieur of sorts, and murder just happens to be one of those. A sick look at murder and American ignorance, and boosted by a great performance by Bale, American Psycho is a unique piece of film-making.