As the musical version of the notoriously gory book returns to the stage, its tale of 80s yuppie nihilism feels more relevant than ever in the era of Andrew Tate, Trump and tech bros
I
have just witnessed a murder. Spattered against the white walls of the Almeida theatre are several thin streaks of blood. Underneath them a particularly gruesome-looking hand axe rests on a table. And on the other side of the room, a clue to who the perpetrator might be. Discarded next to someone’s laptop is a business card – bone-coloured, raised black lettering – bearing a familiar name: Patrick Bateman.
Him again.
It’s 35 years since Bret Easton Ellis’s third novel, American Psycho, unleashed Bateman on his rampage of sadistic violence, and it seems we’ve never stopped wanting more. In the decades since, Bateman has stabbed and slashed his way through a Hollywood movie, an unlikely hit musical and all kinds of internet memes (“I have to return some videotapes”). A remake of the film, reportedly starring Austin Butler as Bateman, is in the works, but before that a reworked musical is returning to the place it first appeared, hence my visit to rehearsals at the Almeida today. As I watch the cast perfect harmonies around the names of typefaces (“Tiiiimes, New Roh-oh-man”), I wonder how a story about 1980s Wall Street bankers – complete with oversized mobile phones and references to Sony Walkmans – has remained so relevant? Should we be worried that it has?
