American Psycho (Blu-ray Disc, 2007, Uncut Edition)

Bret Easton Ellis' Novel 'American Psycho'; 1991, sliced critics right down the middle. Most condemned its profile of an affluent '80s Serial Killer mutilating women as a sick, misogynist diatribe; while others praised the book as a pitch-black send-up of the Immoral Era of junk bonds, Iran-Contra and Cocaine-Crazed materialism.
For years, controversy scared off attempts to bring it to screen; Male Directors for fear of being branded women-haters, while virtually every female was repulsed by the ultraviolent subject matter.
Not Mary Harron.
Along with Co-Screenwriter Guinevere Turner ('Go Fish'), they focus on the novel's darkly ironic social satire. The result is bloody perfect and indubiously brilliant.
'American Psycho' profiles Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale), a blue-blood yuppie whose Ivy League education and inherited wealth guarantee him a life of luxury. His job requires no actual work, a debutante fiancée (Reese Witherspoon) who requires little attention, a dutiful secretary (Chloe Sevigny 'Boys Don't Cry') who asks few questions, and a bank account that seems bottomless.
He bides his time schmoozing at upper-crust eateries, perfecting his canned tan, listening to his Walkman, and working out … occasionally to the sounds of women screaming in horror films.
See, even though his friends are all virtually identical, Patrick is different. He has a secret — he's actually a Serial Killer, more fond of carving up prostitutes than playing the odd game of racquetball. Though we're only partially clued into his murderous nature at first; catching glimpses into a closet packed with instruments of torture or witnessing his frustrations getting bloodstained sheets laundered — we discover he's a Maniac on par with Ted Bundy, luring unsuspecting "hardbodies" into a condo charnel house in between swanky brunches at the Four Seasons.
Turner and Harron's wickedly clever script doesn't show us the full horror of Bateman's macabre right away. Instead, they send up his obsession with the minutiae of upper-crust existence — clothing brands, real estate locations, restaurant reservations, and the typeface on business cards.
In fact, it's Bateman's status-conscious jealously that leads him to commit his most hilarious on-screen murder — when he chops up another young executive (Jared Leto) with a fire axe to the tunes of Huey Lewis and the News' "Hip to Be Square."
The cutlery-sharp play comes from its use of 1980s cultural cues, be it the scoring of a sadomasochistic ménage à trois to Phil Collins' "Sussudio"; to the screenplay's subtle use of Reagan-Era SNL catchphrases; Harron/Turner keep piling on irony as story takes a darker turn; Bateman muses on the meaning of Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love of All," while mutilating a hooker with a chainsaw.
Physically perfect from a heavy-duty exercise regimen and extensive assortment of skin-care products, Bateman has such a warped soul that he's unable connect to anyone. With mannered schmoozing and frenzied psychosis, Bale makes this seesawing from luncheon to dungeon an infectuously watchable blend of madness.
Even when Bateman does blow his cover; quoting Ted Bundy in casual conversation or confessing guilt in ramblings; no one in his shallow cliques can be bothered to notice.
And that's the ultimate question arise - what's worse, the homicidal sociopath or the cynical society that doesn't care that he kills?
SEE THIS GEM !!!!