This film exists. It is real, I have seen it, I had not done anywhere near enough drugs to have hallucinated something that unreal.
I actually refused to believe that it could possibly exist when I was told about it. It was not until I saw the opening title that I started to come around to its existence. I suppose it could be a very, very long sketch on some totally surreal comedy show I have never heard of, but at an hour and a half that seems unlikely.
I will never ever doubt the depraved and bizarre depths that humans will go to in order to make a buck again.
But once I had got over the shock of finding it, I had the shock of watching it. Now obviously, American Psycho II, I didn’t expect it to be good. I didn’t expect it to be watchable. I was unprepared.
Imagine, if you will, having an angry, rabid, vinegar coated gopher shoved into your face by a sexually frustrated heavyweight boxer. Now put William Shatner into that picture, just to add an extra touch of agony. If there is a hell on this planet then I would imagine it to be a small dark room where this film plays on repeat.
This film was produced by humans. By us. We are all doomed. Doomed to lives of intense and agonizing disappointment.
I hate this world.