American Psycho is a sharp, stylized descent into sociopathy — and it’s as unsettling as it is darkly funny. The Business Card Scene is a great example of how Patrick Bateman is completely fixated on his self-image, especially in relation to Paul Allen. It’s not just envy — it’s obsession.

The film is a clear commentary on the cutthroat world of investment banking in 1980s and 90s Manhattan. What makes it more impactful is that it was directed and co-written by Mary Harron, who brought an outsider’s perspective to a male-dominated industry. That outsider lens matters. If the film had come from someone embedded in that world — someone who lived it — it likely would’ve carried the same ego and bravado that Bateman himself thrives on. Just look at The Wolf of Wall Street: Jordan Belfort achieved more financial “success” than most people ever will, and while the film shows the consequences, it still leans into glamorizing the chaos.

The original novel by Bret Easton Ellis is a black comedy that skewers this type of character. The film adaptation tracks the would-be rise of a narcissistic Manhattan investment banker who moonlights as a serial killer — a dark satire of wealth, vanity, and status obsession.

It’s that same glamorous world — but it’s all surface. The film leans heavily into Bateman’s obsession with image, through montages of him exercising maniacally to pornography and jarring music, or delivering disturbingly detailed monologues about his skincare routine. It’s ridiculous, but it works. His entire identity is built on appearances. And that’s the real horror: not just the violence, but how chasing success and status leads to emotional decay. It’s not the wealth that drives him mad — it’s the hollowness of pursuing it.