American Psycho. Ok, American, I'll give you that, but a psycho? Sorry, I don't buy it.

Let's take a look a long hard look at Patrick Bateman (played by Batman himself, Christian Bale), the Wall Street something or other (we never really know what he does, other than the fact that he works for the firm known as Pierce and Pierce) who lives an extraordinary life..... one that I have a difficult time trying to find a trace of any psychosis.

Bateman is super rich, lives in the American Gardens building, (apparently the same building Tom Cruise lives in... at least according to the novel) a skyscraper stuffed with New York's elite, enjoys the finest of clothing, accessories, products, food, furniture, appliances, cigars, wines, liquors, cocaine, raincoats, axes, luggage, duct tape and nail guns. Psycho? Or a man who enjoys the finer things in life?

Living is what Bateman does best. His days are consumed with a job that requires little to no attention, fine dining, drinks before, during and after work, business card design, modest placation of his fiance Evelyn, and a nightly desire to browse the best ladies of the evening, either walking the soiled curbs of the Meat Packing District, or readily available through the Yellow pages. Psychotic? Nay, this is a man who has life figured out.

Prostitutes who enjoy the company of Mr. Bateman are treated to a night of truffles, fine Chardonnay, hard core sex which is generously covered by video tape all why experiencing a rainbow of melodic joy lovingly poured into their ears by Phil Collins. What better way to end an evening of such unparallelled ecstasy than with a rusty coat hanger and a pair of plyers? I ask you is that psychotic? Certainly not. Generous is the term that strikes me first.

A homeless man in need, Bateman is there with much needed advice to help jump start his life. A colleague who is rewarded with the Fisher account, and Bateman is there to lend support with a great meal, drinks, cigars, and a historic lesson on master singer / songwriter Huey Lewis who's sounds are only surpassed by a generously layed out New York Time Style Section. Pschotic? Please.

Genital cleansing? Bateman is there. Proper use of power tools? Bateman is there. Mammalian deposits into cash machines? Bateman is there. Encouraging models that are feeling insecure? Bateman is there. Clitoris removal? Bateman is there. Unsatisfied fiance of a co-worker? Bateman is there. Sexual harassment? Bateman is there. Helping Private Detectives solve missing persons cases? Bateman is there. Sorbet? Bateman is there. Video tapes need returning? Bateman is there. Dry cleaning stained sheets? Bateman is there. Honey Almond Body Scrub. Bateman is there. Proper refrigeration of severed heads? Bateman is there. Supporting the NYPD? Bateman is there. Need a new answering machine message? Bateman is there. Reservations at Dorsia. Well Bateman can't do everything.

So where's the psycho in American Psycho? Other than paying $20 for a drink at Tunnel, I don't find a mentally ill bone in Bateman's body. Perhaps they should have just called this movie American?

Do you like Phil Collins?

You bet your fucking ass I do.

Hamlin Grade: 8

Timothy Dalton is the one true James Bond,
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