I live in the American Gardens building on West 81st Street, on the eleventh floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm twenty-seven years old. I believe in taking care of myself, and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I'll put on an ice pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand now. After I remove the ice pack, I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser. Then a honey almond body scrub. And on the face, an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply a herb-mint facial mask, which I leave on for ten minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm, followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion. There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me. Only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there.
— Patrick Bateman's opening film narration
You see me with your eyes.
I wear a good disguise,
but somehow you still think you know me.
My life is empty now.
My heart is blackened out,
but I gotta fit in and I also gotta be
honest with myself
before I kill somebody else.
The world has done a number on me.
Compassion is devoid.
I'm always so annoyed.
My selfishness, it now consumes me.
I wear a good disguise,
but somehow you still think you know me.
My life is empty now.
My heart is blackened out,
but I gotta fit in and I also gotta be
honest with myself
before I kill somebody else.
The world has done a number on me.
Compassion is devoid.
I'm always so annoyed.
My selfishness, it now consumes me.
But that's okay 'cause no one seems to recognize me anyway.
I'm mistaken for somebody else constantly throughout my day.
I won't get caught 'cause no one knows, that I'm an American psycho.
I'm mistaken for somebody else constantly throughout my day.
I won't get caught 'cause no one knows, that I'm an American psycho.
I know what brand you wear.
I know what kind of pair
of pants and shoes and shirts you have on.
I dine expensively,
with a hard body next to me,
but she likely won't see your next thought.
I know what kind of pair
of pants and shoes and shirts you have on.
I dine expensively,
with a hard body next to me,
but she likely won't see your next thought.
But that's okay 'cause no one seems to recognize me anyway.
I'm mistaken for somebody else constantly throughout my day.
I won't get caught 'cause no one knows, that I'm an American psycho.
It's so sad, we only seem to care
about our face and hair,
and what makes us look good.
Your business card is better.
You have a bigger room.
That could lead to your doom,
and I really think it should.
Did you make it to the top of the world just to die?
I'm mistaken for somebody else constantly throughout my day.
I won't get caught 'cause no one knows, that I'm an American psycho.
It's so sad, we only seem to care
about our face and hair,
and what makes us look good.
Your business card is better.
You have a bigger room.
That could lead to your doom,
and I really think it should.
Did you make it to the top of the world just to die?
I own all the name brands.
I have a nicer tan.
I exercise and work out daily.
I rent some videos,
watch the Patty Winter show.
My mind it thinks irrationally.
I have a nicer tan.
I exercise and work out daily.
I rent some videos,
watch the Patty Winter show.
My mind it thinks irrationally.
But that's okay 'cause no one seems to recognize me anyway.
I'm mistaken for somebody else constantly throughout my day.
I won't get caught 'cause no one cares, that I'm an American psycho.
It's so sad, we only seem to care
about our face and hair,
and what makes us look good.
Your business card is better.
You have a bigger room.
That could lead to your doom,
and I really think it should.
Did you make it to the top of the world just to die?
Oh, did you make it to the top of the world just to die?
You're gonna die!
I'm mistaken for somebody else constantly throughout my day.
I won't get caught 'cause no one cares, that I'm an American psycho.
It's so sad, we only seem to care
about our face and hair,
and what makes us look good.
Your business card is better.
You have a bigger room.
That could lead to your doom,
and I really think it should.
Did you make it to the top of the world just to die?
Oh, did you make it to the top of the world just to die?
You're gonna die!
— Calibretto, "American Psycho"
Do you like Huey Lewis and the News? Their early work was a little too New Wave for my tastes. But when Sports came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercial and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound, and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far much more bitter, cynical sense of humor. ... In '87, Huey released this, Fore!, their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip to be Square", a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should! Because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity, and the importance of trends, it's also a personal statement about the band itself. Hey Paul! AHHHHHH! TRY TO GET A RESERVATION AT DORSIA NOW, YOU FUCKING STUPID BASTARD! AHHHHHH YOU... FUCKING... BASTARD!
— Patrick Bateman, American Psycho (movie)
There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed.
My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. I fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no escape.
But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing.
My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. I fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no escape.
But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing.
—Closing words in the film
