Bret Easton Ellis's bestselling novel American Psycho provoked considerable alarm upon its initial publication back in 1991. The narrative presents a chilling Jekyll and Hyde tale centred on Patrick Bateman, a status-obsessed Wall Street investment banker who appears to possess everything society values, yet harbours a monstrous secret life as a serial killer. In a striking and snappy stage revival directed by Rupert Goold, this disturbing story feels more pertinent and timely than ever before.
A Familiar Monster in a Modern Context
The theatrical production first sent shivers down spines in 2013, featuring Matt Smith in the lead role. This latest 2026 iteration stars Arty Froushan, known for his portrayal of Noel Coward in the final Downton Abbey film. Patrick Bateman remains an offensively deluded fashion victim, zealously consumed by the superficial sins and material obsessions of the contemporary world. However, within today's metastasised culture of 'toxic masculinity', his particular breed of monstrous narcissism has grown even more recognisable and familiar to audiences.
Contemporary Echoes and Satirical Depth
The production cleverly underscores this modern resonance with a pointed cameo appearance by Donald Trump in an elevator scene, a figure whose publication of The Art of The Deal preceded Bateman's literary debut by four years. Yet, what elevates this revival beyond a routine satire of misogyny and greed is the surprising pathos that actor Arty Froushan brings to the role. His Bateman amusingly claims to have tumbled into an existential void while shopping in Bloomingdale's department store, rendering him a tragic zombie on a profoundly misguided quest for some form of redemption.
Amid an expensive-looking display of catwalk couture and Lynne Page's energetic, body-popping choreography, our physically ripped psychopath is notably adorned in a creased suit. Whether intentional or not, this sartorial flaw renders his psychological plight that bit more visibly pathetic and human.
A Sensory Assault of Style and Substance
The production's aesthetic is a calculated sensory assault. Duncan Sheik's pulsating electro-pop score functions as the aural equivalent of ketchup spattered violently across the action, with the standout musical number being a Pet Shop Boys-style anthem that accompanies a scene of macabre, almost recreational carnage. The staging does not shy away from the gruesome, presented on Es Devlin's starkly minimalist set, which is dramatically lit with sharp, geometric floor projections.
The acting and choreography are deliberately reduced to robotic posturing and tense, macho face-offs, mirroring the emotional vacuum at the story's core. In this cold landscape, only Anastasia Martin, portraying Bateman's personal assistant Jean, manages to retain any discernible trace of warm, authentic humanity.
A Moral Ambiguity That Demands Attention
So thoroughly invested is Goold's production in Easton Ellis's nightmare vision of apex predation and capitalist decay that it occasionally becomes challenging to discern whether the show condemns Patrick Bateman or is somehow complicit in his worldview. This very ambiguity is part of its compelling power. The production has proven immensely popular, with tickets completely sold out, suggesting a potential West End transfer may be necessary to allow a broader audience the opportunity to grapple with its provocative themes and judge its merits for themselves.
American Psycho continues its run at London's Almeida Theatre until March 14th, offering a stark, stylish, and unsettling mirror to the preoccupations of our current era.
