Twenty-five years ago, in his pristine but sparse Manhattan apartment, viewers were introduced to Patrick Bateman for the first time. Through his intensive morning routine, the often suited and sometimes blood-drenched fictional character, played by Christian Bale in the 2000 film adaptation of "American Psycho," revealed his obsessive nature. Upon waking, Bateman dons a cooling gel eye mask for his puffy eyelids while doing 1,000 crunches in his white briefs. He details his subsequent nine-step skincare routine at length, offering pointers on avoiding alcohol-based products that "make you look older." When his glistening herb-mint facial mask peels off, his real mask slips, revealing his unsettling stare.

"There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory," he monologues. "And though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable, I simply am not there."

This iconic scene from "American Psycho" captures the essence of a character obsessed with superficiality and consumerism. Bateman's fixation on brands and consumer goods, as depicted in the film and the 1991 novel by Bret Easton Ellis, is a scathing critique of the materialistic culture of the 1980s. However, in today's world, where social media amplifies consumerist attitudes, Bateman's behaviors no longer seem so outlandish. Instead, they reflect a disturbingly familiar reality.

The Rise of Hyper-Consumerism in Social Media

In the age of social media, the hyper-consumerist attitudes that Bateman embodies have become alarmingly normalized. Influencers now chronicle their minute-by-minute early morning fitness and wellness routines, showcasing multistep skincare regimens that involve an array of products. The "morning shed," popularized on TikTok, involves peeling off or discarding multiple hydrating skincare masks, wrinkle patches, chin straps, mouth tape, LED masks, hair rollers, and body wraps, all worn overnight to start the day. This trend, which Allure dubbed "the prison of being perpetually hot," mirrors Bateman's meticulous morning routine, highlighting a society obsessed with outward appearances and consumer goods.

Jaap Kooijman, an associate professor in Media Studies and American Studies at the University of Amsterdam, who has written and taught on both the book and film versions of "American Psycho," noted in a phone interview, "It’s a very relevant film for now, and of course, it was (released) way before social media. But it’s based on the same principle of the outside appearance (and) consumer goods masking being empty inside."

The Intersection of "American Psycho" and Modern Consumerism

The film's depiction of "serial consumerism" has become a fascinating harbinger of our current era. While the original narrative was limited to traditional media like print and TV ads, today's consumers are bombarded with an endless stream of online content promoting products as markers of self-worth. Bateman's obsession with status symbols—his business card typeface, the elusive reservation at the exclusive restaurant Dorsia—mirrors the modern consumer's fixation on luxury brands and exclusive experiences.

The themes of "American Psycho" converge most directly in the "manosphere," an online community that promotes narrow and problematic views of masculinity. Bateman has often been held up as a cult symbol of the "sigma male," an archetype for someone who is introverted, attractive, works hard, maintains a good skincare routine, and harbors contempt for women. While Bret Easton Ellis' original intentions with his novel have been debated, with many critics viewing it as inherently misogynistic, director Mary Harron's adaptation, co-written with screenwriter Guinevere Turner, has been considered feminist by some, including Kooijman, in its critiques.

"We’re still watching a serial killer, but it’s so over the top, and so well played by Christian Bale that it’s, you cannot take it fully seriously," Kooijman explained. The same can be said of engagement-baiting online, where every trend is taken to extremes and context can be lost. Is it satire when a six-hour morning routine goes viral for dunking one’s face in iced sparkling water at 5 a.m. after pushups on the balcony? Or does it only become that when someone else responds with their version dipping their face into the bowl with each push-up?

The Performance of Identity in "American Psycho"

Bateman's identity is a hollow assemblage of labels, products, and condescending monologues—a blueprint for the experience of being online today. His obsession with status symbols and consumer goods serves as a mask for his emptiness. In the film, Bateman's peers misidentify him, his outbursts to his fiancé (played by Reese Witherspoon) and secretary (Chloë Sevigny) go unanswered, and his chainsaw-wielding murders are cleaned up as if they never happened. "His persona as a serial killer is just as real—or not real—as his persona as a consumer and his persona as a (banker)," Kooijman said. "They become interchangeable, and that’s the terror, or the dystopian factor of ‘American Psycho.’”

While Ellis' novel can be interpreted as a critique of the wealth and consumerism of New York in the 1980s, a period of significant economic growth, it also presents these elements in a way that can be seen as a celebration. "You could also read it as a celebration," Kooijman noted. Because of this ambiguity, Bateman's purpose may have been lost on fans who could benefit from the film's critique. By the end of the film, Bateman is a pathetic figure, confessing his most depraved actions only to be called the wrong name and ignored once again (not so much a hero of masculinity after all).

The Echo Chamber of Modern Consumerism

In today's world, many young men are caught in the same preoccupations that Bateman exhibited, "looksmaxxing" to improve their jawline or skin but sharing their progress within an echo chamber of like-minded, disaffected internet users. This mirrors the behavior of investment bankers showing off new business cards to one another to inflate their self-worth. The manosphere, after all, is intended for itself. "You can always be thinner, look better," Bateman tells his secretary when he invites her over for the evening. Online, that message continues to resonate, as social media drives an insatiable hunger for more.

"American Psycho" remains a chillingly relevant film for our times. It critiques the superficiality and consumerism of the 1980s, but its themes resonate even more strongly in today's hyper-consumerist culture. Bateman's obsession with brands and consumer goods, once seen as extreme, now seems almost normal in a world where social media amplifies these attitudes. His identity, a hollow assemblage of labels and products, serves as a warning about the dangers of seeking self-worth through material possessions.

In the age of social media, where every trend is taken to extremes and context can be lost, Bateman's character serves as a reminder that beneath the surface, we are all human. His mask may slip, but the performance continues, driven by an insatiable hunger for more. As we scroll through our feeds, chronicling our own morning routines and skincare regimens, we must ask ourselves: Are we merely performing for the sake of performance, or are we seeking something deeper?