American Psycho is a film that shocks, disturbs, and provokes. Directed by Mary Harron and based on Bret Easton Ellis’s controversial novel, it’s a biting satire of 1980s Wall Street excess, consumerism, and toxic masculinity. At its core, the film explores the fragile identity of Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale), a man whose wealth and power fail to mask the emptiness and rage beneath his perfectly groomed exterior.

As a woman, I found Harron’s perspective as a female director crucial in shaping the story’s critique of masculinity and capitalism. Her lens adds depth to the film, turning Bateman’s violence from a glorification of machismo into a dissection of its fragility. Watching American Psycho felt like staring into a dark, exaggerated mirror of modern societal pressures, where wealth, power, and identity are often wrapped in hollow performance.

Patrick Bateman’s World of Hollow Relationships

One of the film’s most tragic characters is Courtney (Samantha Mathis), Bateman’s side chick and fiancée to his coworker, Luis Carruthers. Courtney spends much of her time sedated on pills, drinking wine in the middle of the day, and floating through life in a haze of indifference. Her relationship with Bateman is emblematic of the film’s overarching critique of emptiness and performance.

Courtney isn’t in love with Bateman; she’s in love with the status and image he represents. Similarly, Bateman doesn’t care for Courtney beyond the convenience of their relationship. In one scene, Bateman takes Courtney to dinner at a high-end restaurant, only to coldly berate her for her appearance and her choice of drugs. Despite his cruelty, Courtney remains apathetic, too dulled by her pills and alcohol to respond.

This dynamic struck me as a poignant critique of how systems like capitalism and patriarchy rob women of agency. Courtney’s life is dictated by appearances, wealth, and societal expectations. She numbs herself because there’s no escape from the performance she’s trapped in.

Courtney as a Symbol of Escape

Courtney’s substance abuse isn’t just a coping mechanism—it’s a desperate form of escape. In a world where everyone, including Bateman, is performing their identity, Courtney’s addiction becomes a tragic reflection of the hollowness that surrounds her. She’s a victim of the same system that created Bateman, using pills and alcohol to dull the pain of a life that’s been commodified and stripped of authenticity.

As someone who has observed how societal expectations weigh heavily on women, I found Courtney’s arc painfully relatable. Her character serves as a reminder that while Bateman’s violence is overt and grotesque, the quiet violence of systemic oppression—particularly toward women—is just as damaging.

A World Built on Fragile Masculinity

Patrick Bateman is the embodiment of fragile masculinity. Despite his wealth, attractiveness, and social status, Bateman is consumed by insecurity and a desperate need for validation. He competes over business cards with his colleagues, obsesses over his physical appearance, and idolizes the material markers of success.

This resonated with me as a critique of how fragile masculinity manifests in our daily lives. Bateman’s insecurities aren’t unique to the 1980s; they remain a powerful undercurrent in modern society, where men often measure their worth in wealth, status, and dominance. The film exposes the dangers of this insecurity, showing how it breeds resentment, violence, and a complete lack of empathy.

Capitalism as the True Villain

Harron’s American Psycho is as much an indictment of capitalism as it is of Bateman’s misogyny and sociopathy. The film portrays Wall Street as a soulless machine, where identity is reduced to what you own, who you network with, and how much you earn. Bateman isn’t a monster in a vacuum; he’s a product of a world that values appearances over substance.

The infamous business card scene, where Bateman becomes visibly distraught over a colleague’s superior card stock, is a perfect encapsulation of this. It’s not about the card itself—it’s about the perceived power and status it represents. Capitalism, in this world, doesn’t just dehumanize its victims; it dehumanizes its beneficiaries.

As someone who’s worked in spaces driven by competition and materialism, I found this aspect of the film especially haunting. Harron’s direction shows how these systems don’t just oppress—they hollow out the very people who thrive within them.

The Role of Women and the Female Gaze

One of the most striking elements of American Psycho is its female-directed perspective. Harron takes a story steeped in violence against women and reframes it as a critique of the systems and ideologies that enable such violence. The film doesn’t revel in Bateman’s murders; it highlights their absurdity and horror, often turning the camera away from the act itself to focus on Bateman’s increasingly unhinged perspective.

The women in American Psycho are both victims and reflections of Bateman’s psyche. From his fiancée Evelyn (Reese Witherspoon), who represents his hollow personal life, to Courtney, whose numbing escapism underscores her entrapment, Harron ensures the women are more than just props for Bateman’s rage. Their disinterest, fear, or complicity exposes Bateman’s impotent rage and failure to connect meaningfully.

Ambiguity as a Weapon

One of the most debated aspects of American Psycho is its ambiguity. Did Bateman actually commit the murders, or are they a product of his delusions? Harron leans into this uncertainty, using it to further her critique of Bateman and the world he inhabits. Whether the murders are real or imagined, they are expressions of Bateman’s desire for control in a world where he feels powerless.

This ambiguity struck me as a reflection of how unchecked privilege and power can distort reality. Bateman lives in a bubble of wealth and status where consequences don’t seem to exist. His crimes—or fantasies of crimes—go unnoticed because no one cares to look closely. It’s a chilling reminder of how systems built on capitalism and patriarchy allow the powerful to escape accountability.

A Timeless Critique of Modern Society

Though set in the 1980s, American Psycho feels eerily relevant today. The obsession with appearances, the commodification of identity, and the fragility of unchecked privilege are as pervasive now as they were then. Harron’s film doesn’t just critique one man—it critiques a system that creates and enables men like Bateman.

Courtney, Evelyn, and the other women in the film remind us that these systems harm everyone—those who conform, those who rebel, and those who try to escape. As a creative performer who navigates spaces shaped by societal expectations and power dynamics, American Psycho resonated with me deeply. It’s a cautionary tale about the cost of living in a world where performance is valued over authenticity.

Conclusion: A Razor-Sharp Satire

American Psycho is a film that lingers, both for its shocking content and its biting commentary. Mary Harron’s direction ensures that the film is more than just a critique of one man’s unraveling—it’s a dissection of the systems that fuel his identity. With sharp performances, particularly Christian Bale’s chilling turn as Patrick Bateman, the film invites us to confront the dark underbelly of capitalism, masculinity, and the hollow pursuit of power.

For me, Courtney’s character, in particular, serves as a reminder of how these systems don’t just oppress but hollow out the individuals within them. Her pills and wine are as much tools of survival as Bateman’s suits and business cards—both desperate attempts to fit into a world that offers no true fulfillment.

Bateman may be an exaggerated figure, but the world he inhabits isn’t far removed from our own. And that’s what makes American Psycho so terrifying—and so essential.