Ladies and Gentlemen, American Psycho the Musical is happening. As much as I loathe the idea of remakes and reboots and refurbishes, I am a huge fan of stage musicals converted cleverly. I was thoroughly impressed with Mary Harron’s adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’s novel — I thought she was able to imbue the gruesome stream of consciousness into a really stylistic flick.
How it will convert to the big stage will remain to be seen. Duncan Sheik’s signed on to pen the book, which promises for some solid songwriting. My biggest concern is that most of the charm of the film — and for that matter the book — revolves around ’80s pop like Huey Lewis and Phil Collins. Patrick Bateman’s now iconic maniac diatribes about the cheestastic balladeers are pretty pivotal to the plot. I would have been concerned that it might have turned into some sort of Mamma Mia splashfest instead of something more along the lines of Assassins or Sweeney Todd. Gruesome bloody murder and musical theatre actually go wonderfully well, and I think song work can really add to the buoyant insanity of the musical.
I would cut a hooker in half with a chainsaw to be there opening night.