What can you say about a musical based on “American Psycho,” Bret Easton Ellis’s glib, heartless, and pretentious novel about a homicidal and narcissistic investment banker? Well, that it is “glib, heartless and pretentious,” if you’re Charles Spencer reviewing the work in the London Telegraph. Following the world premiere of the Duncan Sheik musical at the adventurous Almeida Theatre, the critical consensus was that the creators had managed brilliantly to capture the chilly and superficial world of the brand-worshipping serial killer Patrick Bateman, played by Christian Bale in the 2000 film version and here played by Matt Smith (“Doctor Who”). But to what effect?
“This is a show that confirms the mythic power of Easton Ellis’s story and leaves us dangerously entertained,” opined Paul Taylor in the Independent, while David Benedict in Variety wrote that the musical was “all style and no substance.”
The run at the 325-seat Almeida was a quick sellout, no doubt spurred by the stellar names of Sheik, Smith, and 41-year-old director Rupert Goold. A transfer to a West End commercial run is all but assured. Whether it eventually crosses the Atlantic may be another matter, but I’d bet on it. And so would Easton Ellis. When Matt Smith’s casting as Bateman was announced, the author tweeted his approval, adding that for Broadway he’d like to see the role go to Andrew Rannells (“The Book of Mormon”).
Sheik, who won a Tony Award for “Spring Awakening,” received almost universal praise for his ’80s pastiche score, which is joined by a few of the cheesy pop classics from that period, including Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me” and Tears for Fears’s “Everybody Wants to Rule the World.” Also in its favor are the sleek, cool, high-tech designs of Es Devlin.
But, according to Benedict, the musical has a high hurdle yet to clear. It is bloodless — both metaphorically and literally. For the most part, the murders of this psychotic killer go unrepresented. Moreover, whereas both the novel and the movie toyed with the notion as to whether the bloodlust was real or just fantasy, the musical posits it as weird workings of an over-active imagination. “That may come from the well-intentioned position of not wishing to revel in Bateman’s murderous violence as he slaughters prostitutes and rivals of both genders,” writes Benedict. “Whatever the reason, it robs the show of darkness and, for the most part, any galvanizing sense of horror.”
That would appear to be a problem given the expectations for a musical based on the 1991 bestseller that shocked with its graphic violence, sadistic torture, and sexual depravity. Besieged by death threats and hate mail, Easton Ellis told everybody to relax. It was satire. The film likewise divided critics, some heaping scorn on its gratuitous violence while others praised its dark vision of the materialist ’80s. The gore, which was gleefully dished out in the movie, is a problem for the stage. Theater has rarely been hospitable to graphic violence for one reason: stage blood looks like, well, stage blood. Fake. The recent off-Broadway revival of the musical “Carrie” tried to get around those limitations through lighting and scenic effects, but largely failed. It’ll be interesting to see how the creative team of “American Psycho” — which includes librettist Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa (“Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark”) — will create the slashing sense of menace audiences will be expecting from the nasty yet sartorial Mr. Bateman.
