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In 1991, Bret Easton Ellis’ controversial debut novel, American Psycho, was published. It’s a look into the mind of Patrick Bateman, your average 1980s name-dropping, brand-whoring Wall Street greedhead. Raw, scary and often gross, it follows the downward spiral of a yuppie who is a pretentious, misogynistic businessman by day, and a “give me a weapon and I will use it” serial killer by night. As you read it, you feel his descent into madness, and it has become a Gen X cult classic (inspiring a film version in 2000 starring Christian Bale). The original printing still has a special place on my bookshelf, so imagine my excitement to be sitting in the audience at Theater West End for playwright Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa’s musical adaptation of a story I’ve known for decades.

Director-designer Derek Critzer’s set is impressive, especially for a smaller theater. The array of old televisions playing videos of songs from the time was almost overwhelming, and a vivid reminder of how nightclubs in that era looked. Most surprising were the four sunken tables in the middle of the stage, with platforms built around them like a catwalk. Then I noticed audience members being escorted to those tables. I enjoy immersive theater, but were they there to make the party scenes look more crowded? Would they get spattered with blood? It’s a bold choice.

Halfway through the first song I realized this play’s tone has little in common with the book. Yes, it’ was based on it’s the source material, but this is not the gritty, scary novel I remembered; instead, it was more campy, almost upbeat. Familiar pop songs — including Tears for Fears’ “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” and Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight” — keep the audience mouthing along to the sounds of sweet nostalgia. However, while some of the original songs by Duncan Sheik are catchy and crammed with pop-culture references, others are obviously just “Killing Time” (a song that was on the original London cast album, but isn’t always included in productions). It felt light and fluffy, like an after-school special where everything’s OK at the end, no matter what happens on the way there.

At first, Chris Monell’s portrayal of Patrick Bateman was off-putting; he initially seemed flat and dull for such a complex character (though he certainly had the body for it). About 30 minutes in, Monell found his footing and became the Bateman that I had always imagined. During the second half, when things took a much darker turn, Monell really brought it home, bravely spending most of the final act onstage wearing nothing but tighty-whities and fake blood.

The supporting cast is a valuable asset, many playing multiple roles. Will Sippel (as Luis) and Noah Howard (playing three different roles) both do a great job of making smaller lines hit the mark. Woodrow Helms’ portrayal of Tim Price is a standout, with charm and humor bringing layers of personality to the drab beginning. As Paul Owen, Harvey Evens is captivating until his end. The female cast is also compelling. Laurel Hatfield, as spoiled, ditzy socialite Evelyn Williams, is perfectly cringy in the role. Jordan Grant, as Jean, the shy, quiet secretary in love with her boss, is delightful while giving the show a hint of humanity. Unfortunately, the women were overshadowed — which makes sense, as Bateman only sees women as accessories or future victims. Or both.

Despite a few sound mishaps, music director Justin Adams and sound engineer Lance Lebonte do a good job bringing the show to life. Chris Payen’s choreography is strong, with distinctive robotic movements, though it sometimes distracted from the action on the slim front stage, pulling focus from the actors to the people dancing around them. The costumes by Maria and Ana Tew were also on point. It had to be challenging to find the proper 1980s attire for such a large cast, especially with all the designer name-dropping that runs throughout the show. I particularly enjoyed a few very subtle details, like when Bateman’s pockets were coming out of his sweatpants or his shirt was untucked in the back, showing he wasn’t as put together as he liked to pretend.

All in all, American Psycho at Theater West End is a fun experience. Once I realized that I was in for an over-the-top version of the original, I strapped in and enjoyed the ride. Critzer’s direction, with assistant director Hunter Rogers, is edgy and confident, just like the material; the use of a knife as Bateman’s phone was inspired, and holding the business cards at genital level showed the desperate need for all these men to have the biggest … ego.

This show embodies the gluttony and greed of the ’80s, featuring a wicked twist and some comments about the “great” Donald Trump. Full of people who want to be the same as their peers, but just a little bit superior. It holds up because nothing has actually changed. It’s a kill-or-be-killed world. But the show is suitable for a laugh as we decide which choice we’re making.

American Psycho