Book: Roberta Aguirre-Sacasa
Music and Lyrics: Duncan Sheik
Director: Rupert Goold
And off we go, Rupert Goold’s final year as the Artistic Director of the Almeida Theatre, a place that has become a powerhouse of new talent during his tenure, begins with a moment of indulgence, a revival of the hugely successful American Psycho, first performed at the venue in 2013, from where it earned a West End transfer. The only show Goold will direct in his final season, Duncan Sheik and Roberta Aguirre-Sacasa’s show based on Brett Easton Ellis’ savage 1990s satire, may not be an obvious choice for his swansong, but its existential crisis of deluded masculinity and the electrifying charisma of Arty Froushan’s Patrick Bateman feel as dangerously relevant as ever.
Bitterly jealous of his rival investment banker Paul Owen, Patrick Bateman’s perfect and perfectly tailored life starts to come apart when he is overlooked for a plum account. At 27, Bateman starts to question his purpose, and in spite of his independently wealthy girlfriend, success and debauched, designer lifestyle, vicious thoughts begin to erupt, and a new kind of monstrosity emerges from within.
Easton Ellis’ original novel arrived a time when modern male writers were starting to question the pull between the sensitive modern man and an innate quest for violence that was explored in The Football Factory and Fight Club as well as American Psycho, all books that became successful films about this deepening dislocation between perceived and inherited notions of manliness and its suppression beneath layers of social adherence. Patrick Bateman became something of a poster boy for a generation obsessed with image and male power that has evolved into some of the darker attempts to reclaim masculinity that fill social media today, never realising that Bateman – certainly in Sheik and Aguirre-Sacasa’s musical – is deliberately empty and lost, daring the audience to judge him while being an uncomfortable reflection of themselves.
Goold’s revival is often thrilling; big, energetic set pieces fizz in the small Almeida space, hugely impressive choreography by Lynne Page gets bolder as we move through the score, and there is shrewd use of video and lighting by Finn Ross and Jon Clark respectively, on Es Devlin’s minimal but sharp staging. Bateman’s world is immersive and sexy, the audience feels the snappy wildness of his existence as he roams from office to clubs, expensive apartments, the gym and seedy downtown spaces drinking, sleeping around and taking drugs in an endless spiral that bleeds effortlessly into the orgiastic butchery that requires a bigger and bigger hit. And we’ve seen these generic boys in their generic designer suits living generic hedonism time and again in popular culture, but Goold’s approach to American Psycho also has something deeper, a sadness and pain that eventually consume Bateman, a drastic reckoning of self that crumbles all the nonsense posturing and leaves him exposed.
At the centre of this is a magnetic, star-making performance from Froushan, who appeared in a small role in The Line of Beauty at this venue last autumn, filled with a dark charisma, and from the moment he steps onto the stage the audience is in thrall and barely takes their eyes off him for the next 3 hours, even in the ensemble numbers. There is an easy charm and unpredictability in his characterisation, an intensity in performance reminiscent of Michael Fassbender, but Froushan recognises the subtle but skewering satire he is playing, a man who sees himself as everything and no one, representing a generation and an empty vessel unable to reconcile all the kinds of man he is expected to be.
There are faults in American Psycho, the rest of the cast are little more than caricatures, leaving talented young stars like Oli Higginson (Timoth), Emily Barber (Evelyn) and Tanisha Spring (Courtney) with little to work with, although both the ensemble and Anastasia Martin as sweet secretary Jean are superb. The book in Act One labours a little and cuts for repetition could bring down the running time, but American Psycho has been much revered in the years since 2013, and in 2026 still has something to say about the challenges of modern masculinity that remain unresolved.
Runs until 14 March 2026
