eJournals Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik 32/2

Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik
aaa
0171-5410
2941-0762
Narr Verlag Tübingen
Es handelt sich um einen Open-Access-Artikel, der unter den Bedingungen der Lizenz CC by 4.0 veröffentlicht wurde.http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/121
2007
322 Kettemann

“No Time for the Innocent”: Evil, Subversion and Social Criticism in Joel Schumacher’s Falling Down, Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho and Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers

121
2007
Florian Niedlich
This article investigates the representation and function of evil in Joel Schumacher’s movie Falling Down, Bret Easton Ellis’s novel American Psycho, and Oliver Stone’s movie Natural Born Killers. In all three ‘texts’, evil emerges as a subversive force, namely as the protagonists’ form of resistance against a society that is portrayed as hostile and whose existing order is called into question. Thus, the subversive impetus gives rise to different forms of social criticism: to a conservative condemnation of the disintegration of traditional values brought about by liberal capitalism in Falling Down, an attack on capitalist society’s conformity, superficiality and materialism in American Psycho, and to a critique of the modern mass-media society in Natural Born Killers. In connection with this criticism, all three texts finally destabilize the category of ‘evil’ itself, which is thus revealed as a social construct.
aaa3220221
AAA - Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik Band 32 (2007) Heft 2 Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen “No Time for the Innocent”: Evil, Subversion and Social Criticism in Joel Schumacher’s Falling Down, Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho and Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers Florian Niedlich This article investigates the representation and function of evil in Joel Schumacher’s movie Falling Down, Bret Easton Ellis’s novel American Psycho, and Oliver Stone’s movie Natural Born Killers. In all three ‘texts’, evil emerges as a subversive force, namely as the protagonists’ form of resistance against a society that is portrayed as hostile and whose existing order is called into question. Thus, the subversive impetus gives rise to different forms of social criticism: to a conservative condemnation of the disintegration of traditional values brought about by liberal capitalism in Falling Down, an attack on capitalist society’s conformity, superficiality and materialism in American Psycho, and to a critique of the modern mass-media society in Natural Born Killers. In connection with this criticism, all three texts finally destabilize the category of ‘evil’ itself, which is thus revealed as a social construct. 1. Introduction Artists of all times have been fascinated by the phenomenon of evil and its manifestations. The great number of artistic representations of evil that have been created as a result of this interest and that document it is equaled by a wide variety of cultural functions ascribed to evil. One of the most frequent ways for evil to manifest itself has always been through acts of violence. This is also the case in Bret Easton Ellis’s novel American Psycho (1991), Joel Schumacher’s movie Falling Down (1993), and Oliver Stone’s movie Natural Born Killers (1994). This paper investigates the different representations of evil in these ‘texts’, trying to find the respec- Florian Niedlich 222 1 The decisive moment of this transformation is when Foster commits his first and only murder by killing the neo-Nazi owner of the army-surplus store. Later in this scene, he himself remarks to his ex-wife on the phone that he is now “past the point of no return” (FD). This significant change in his personality is underscored by his symbolic shooting of his own reflection in the mirror - thus erasing his former self -, his cracked glasses, and the equally symbolic change in his attire: He replaces his white shirt and tie with a black army dress, thus completing the metamorphosis from a white-collar worker into a vigilante. (Detective Prendergast will later refer to him as “G.I. Joe” [FD].) tive forms of social criticism connected with them. In doing so, the different depictions of the American Dream will come under scrutiny as well. Particular focus is placed on the way the protagonists use violence in order to position themselves in relation to society. In the course of this analysis, beginning with Falling Down and ending with Natural Born Killers, it will become clear that this relation is an increasingly problematic one. As will be shown, what all three texts have in common is that they attribute a subversive function to violence and that they reveal the category of ‘evil’ as one that is increasingly hard to define. 2. Going Home: Joel Schumacher’s Falling Down “I’m the bad guy? […] How did that happen? I did everything they told me to.” (Falling Down [FD]) “I’m going home.” (FD) These are William Foster’s first words after having deserted his car in Los Angeles gridlock. He sets off on foot, ignoring a restraining order and heading for the house of his ex-wife to give his daughter a birthday present. What follows is a journey through urban chaos, divided into ten episodes. As Foster traverses the modern LA cityscape, his various encounters set off increasingly violent reactions on his side and thus mark the steps in his progressive transformation into a vigilante 1 . As his weapons become more dangerous, so does he. At the end of the movie, he has turned into ‘the bad guy’. But has he really? Foster is portrayed as a modern Everyman and the movie “is careful to render [his] grievances general ones” (Olson 2004: 237). The following analysis will demonstrate that, in fact, throughout the movie, he is presented in an overall positive light; i.e. as ‘the good guy’ with a righteous cause. It will be argued that this strategy plays an important role in the communication of the movie’s central message and social criticism. Foster’s first encounter is with a Korean grocery store owner whom he asks for change for the phone. Infuriated by the man’s heavily-accented English, the fact that the grocer insists on his buying something if he wants to have change and the, according to him, inflated prices, he sets about “No Time for the Innocent” 223 2 For a discussion of racist undertones in the movie see below. 3 The scene in which Foster utters these words seems to mark a moment of clarity and selfknowledge in that he (partly) becomes aware of his transformation. In this context, Whitelegg argues that the encounter with the protester works as an epiphany for Foster by making him “realise that he is not the only victim” and by “[providing] him with the words to articulate his position precisely” (1999: online). demolishing the store and “rolling back prices to 1965” (FD). At the end of the scene, he buys a can of Coca-Cola, paying the 50 cents he thinks it should cost. What is so important about this scene is that it establishes Foster right from the beginning as an ordinary person who basically just wants to ‘put things back into place’. He appears as an upright man who has no intentions to cheat anyone but who also does not want to be exploited. A similar scene takes place at the fast-food restaurant Whammyburger, in which Foster erupts with anger because the employees refuse to get him breakfast even though he arrives only a few minutes after they stopped serving it and because of the discrepancy between the restaurant’s advertising and their actual products. Again - after having obtained breakfast by threatening the employees with an automatic weapon - he pays. In both scenes, Foster is portrayed as a normal citizen restoring order and justice to a chaotic and unfair system, of which he - supposedly just like most Americans - is a victim. In the course of his ‘journey home’ Foster battles numerous other social ills and injustices which affect and offend many, especially what Carol J. Clover terms the “Average White Male consciousness” (1993: 145). For example, when the Chicano gang members, the homeless man in the park and the elderly golf players each tell him that he is trespassing ‘their’ property and when he cuts his hands on a barbed-wire fence climbing into a plastic surgeon’s garden, it is the privatization of space and the territorialized nature of cities in general that comes under attack. And towards the end of the movie, at one of the many construction sites he comes across, his fury is directed at the corruption of municipal agencies that carry out unnecessary construction work in order to maintain their inflated budgets. Since most of Foster’s conflicts are such “Everyone scenes” (Clover 1993: 140) - the objects of his rage being ones that many (Wasp) 2 moviegoers might agree on - he emerges as a victim rather than the evil one. By means of empathy, his acts of violence are rendered acts of defense against a society that, in turn, appears as hostile and aggressive. Thus, it is appropriate that his license plate reads ‘D-FENS’ and that, up to one month before, he was employed as a defense worker. But now, the Cold War being over, his country no longer needs him: “I’m obsolete. I’m not economically viable.” (FD) Just like the African American protester earlier in the movie, whose slogan (‘not economically viable’) he borrows here 3 , he has become a victim of “the current climate of downskilling, out-contracting, short-termism and Florian Niedlich 224 4 Cf. for example the sharp contrast between the ageing golfers and the plastic surgeon’s estate on the one hand and the omnipresent suffering and misery Foster comes across during his journey on the other. 5 The violent cartoon his daughter watches on TV at one point in the movie can be seen as a twisted allegory of his rebellion. In Foster’s case, the story of the clever underdog outwitting the mighty overlord is reversed: His revolt is doomed to fail. While he might be a moral lion, the vulture (! ) society is far too powerful to be defeated. 6 Note the common associations of romance, love, etc. that the name ‘Venice’ connotes. 7 The protagonist’s desperate desire to be with his family again and have a home he feels he belongs to is also expressed in his last name. worldwide employment-insecurity” (Whitelegg 1999: online). Almost all the issues tackled in the movie - from inflation, privatization of space and the growing class-divide 4 (an outcome of Reaganomics and the recession that accompanied Bush’s presidency) to a cruel job market in which people are judged only in terms of ‘economic viability’ and success and are turned into commodities that one day simply become ‘obsolete’ - are consequences of America’s liberal capitalism. The movie maintains that it is this system that is to blame for all the social injustices, inequality and poverty, materialism, and the general ruthlessness of all towards all. While Foster’s actions are certainly extreme, society is revealed as the true evil. “‘This is not a bad guy,’ director Joel Schumacher says, ‘but he’s had it.’”(Clover 1993: 138) Foster revolts against this inhumane society and fights back 5 . Yet, he is not only a rebel, but at the same time also a product of society, and a hyperbolic epitome of its perversion. But what is it he is fighting for? Does the movie offer any alternative to the capitalist society it criticizes? Foster wants to get away from the bedlam of the inner city and go home. Thus, it seems that if such an alternative is to be found, then it will certainly be this ‘home’ he is longing for. ‘Home’ for Foster - though he is not (fully) aware of this - is much more than just the house in the district of Venice 6 . It is a different idea of America and the true American Dream as he sees it. As Whitelegg aptly points out, Foster’s whole search for home is “articulated in the presentation of what has been lost” (Whitelegg 1999: online): the traditional values and ideals of America. In this context, it is telling that during his struggle with the grocery store owner right at the beginning of the movie, a cup holding small replica American flags is knocked over. As their symbolic falling to the ground indicates, it is not only William Foster who is ‘falling down’ (which is, of course, the movie’s title). With reference to the nursery rhyme “London Bridge is Falling Down”, whose melody is a kind of leitmotif of the movie, one can say that it is also the ‘bridge America’, which once brought people together, that is crumbling because its pillars - justice, equality, freedom, unity, etc. - have become corroded. The movie implies that the most important of these is family, the quintessence of harmony 7 . Accordingly, the movie ends with what may “No Time for the Innocent” 225 8 The shot evokes feelings of nostalgia through the elements included and their arrangement: family pictures of happy times past, a sleeping dog, blue light cast from an aquarium, music, etc. 9 To a certain extent, both can be said to be tragic figures. 10 Other parallels are the ‘lost’ daughter, the snow-globe, the white shirt and tie and the fact that the behavior of both becomes harsher over the course of the movie. The equation between them is made obvious in the scene in which Prendergast asks the Chicana girl Angelina for a description of the man who was the cause of her friends’ accident and she says, “He looked like you” (FD). be called a ‘nostalgic shot’ 8 of the family-video still running in the empty house. Like Arthur Miller’s Willy Loman 9 , Foster “has played by the rules of the American-dream game” (Olson 2004: 240), but has been betrayed: “I did everything they told me to. Did you know I build missiles? I help to protect America. You should be rewarded for that. Instead, they give it to the plastic surgeon. They lied to me.” (FD) The idealists and patriots have been replaced by those who satisfy the needs of a superficial society. Despite his efforts, Foster, similar to Loman, has been left behind. The movie suggests that, in the context of late capitalism, the promises of the American Dream are hollowed out, that it’s moral vision has become perverted into a materialistic pursuit of wealth and success. During his entire crusade, there is nonetheless something that eludes Foster. As Whitelegg, following Davies, rightly notes, “it is no accident that the argument that initially sets Foster on his rampage concerns a perceived overprized can of Coca-Cola. The drink signifies everything that is definitely American, and the excessive price the extent to which its associated values have been ‘polluted’.”(1999: online) While a can of Coca-Cola certainly does not signify everything, it still stands for at least one thing that is characteristically American: global consumer capitalism. Herein lies one of the central ironies of the movie: In statements such as “I’m just standing up for my rights as a consumer” (FD) in the grocery store and “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘The customer is always right’? ” (FD) at the restaurant, Foster actually seems to endorse the mechanisms and rules of the market. Thus, in scenes like these, he unconsciously subscribes to the very system he seeks to repudiate. At the end of the movie, Foster realizes that his home - both in the literal and the metaphorical sense - is irretrievably lost. His delusion ends as he has to face reality and all that is left to him is suicide at the hands of his double, Detective Prendergast. The main parallel between the two men is that both hold very similar worldviews (cf. their dialogue about the ‘sickness’ of society and the importance of family) and have recently become ‘obsolete’ 10 . However, Prendergast chooses a different way to cope with this situation. Towards the end of the movie, he proves his worth by tracing Florian Niedlich 226 11 Cf. Foster’s eloquence and his control of the language of the exchange with the grocery store owner, his arrogance in talking with the Chicano gang members, his skillful handling of their weapons while they are shown as completely incompetent, etc. 12 For an analysis of the angry-white-man figure cf. Olson. Foster’s movements, stops being submissive and gains self-confidence through several acts of emancipation, and decides that he will not retire yet. He, too, feels that society has changed in a drastic and undesirable way, but - unlike Foster - resolves to stay and act in the here and now. In simple terms, one might say that “[Foster] is extreme and dies and Prendergast is moderate and survives” (Clover 1993: 142). Another important aspect is that the stories of both men are played out along a “double axis of race and sex” (Clover 1993: 142). This already becomes clear right at the beginning of the movie, when Prendergast, stuck in the same traffic jam as Foster, stares at a billboard showing a tanned woman in a bikini next to the slogan ‘White Is For Laundry’ and a little graffiti man someone has drawn onto the poster, who is trapped between the woman’s ample breasts and is yelling ‘HELP! ! ’. The implication of the white male being victimized by ethnic and female Others is obvious. Especially racist undertones can be traced throughout the movie. Apart from the clearly stereotypical representation of ethnic minorities, the fact that Foster is repeatedly shown “as a representative of a superior culture” 11 (Light 1999: 149) and several openly xenophobic remarks, the movie’s central message of the loss of traditional values is conveyed in racial terms as well. “I’m going home! Clear the path, you motherfucker! ” (FD) Foster shouts after one of the Chicano youths and in light of all that has already been said, it becomes alarmingly clear that ‘home’ does not only indicate a different America based on more traditional values, but an exclusively Waspish America (with the Wasp family as its nucleus) and that everyone in his way, all the ethnic Others he encounters, are therefore obstacles to the realization of this ideal. Thus, capitalism is not the only evil; the corruption of America as Foster sees it is equally the result of a growing ethnic and cultural diversity. The victimized Angry White Man’s 12 only option is to resort to violence in order to defend himself and assert his sense of self by excluding a racialized Other. 3. Surface, surface, surface: Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho “[T]he world is senseless. Evil is its only permanence.” (American Psycho 375 [AP]) Moving on from William Foster to Patrick Bateman means making quite a big leap. While Foster commits ‘only’ one intentional murder, Bateman is a serial “No Time for the Innocent” 227 13 Trans.: ‘Patrick Bateman and his world represent the shape the American Dream took in the eighties.’ 14 Of course, one can argue about whether all these acts and signs are real after all. While Bateman is certainly an unreliable narrator, this question, however, cannot be settled, since the novel seems to remain intentionally ambiguous about the authenticity of Bateman’s narrative. In this paper, these acts and signs are assumed as real, not imagined. killer who has tortured and murdered people for years. Bateman, the narrator and protagonist of the book, relates his countless killings in meticulous detail and a purely descriptive, detached tone. This style is consistent throughout the novel, and the fact that he uses it equally to recount trivialities such as his morning ritual of body care and hygiene, as well as gruesome acts of violence and torture, increases the shocking and disturbing effect of the narrative. But what exactly is it that makes him carry out all these horrific deeds? At first glance, there seems to be no reason for his homicidal behavior. He is well-educated, attractive, has a high-paying job on Wall Street, is popular with women, has many friends and is extremely rich. In a word, he represents the archetypal yuppie. As Ursula Voßmann puts it: “Patrick Bateman und seine Welt repräsentieren den Amerikanischen Traum in der Ausformung, die er in den achtziger Jahren annahm.” 13 (Voßmann 2000: 17) Thus, on the surface, he seems to lead a fulfilled life. However, a closer look at it will reveal that this is not at all the case. “My life is a living hell,” (AP 141) Bateman tells his peers twice in the novel. But, as with his numerous confessions, nobody pays any attention. Indeed, this fact is certainly one of the main reasons for his feeling about his life the way he does. All they ever talk about are banalities, nothing substantial. Genuine communication has become an impossibility in Bateman’s circles. Despite the fact that he constantly goes out with other people, he has no real friends. Even with his girlfriend and his mistress there is no understanding or intimacy, let alone love: “Sex is mathematics. […] Desire - meaningless. […] Love cannot be trusted.” (AP 375) Everyone, Bateman included, has lost their ability to truly connect with others and suffers from a “severely impaired capacity to feel” (AP 343). This also entails the characters’ utter lack of sympathy and concern, which is already hinted at in the lyrics by the Talking Heads, one of the three forewords of the novel: “And as things fell apart [/ ] Nobody paid much attention” (AP n.pag.). This indifference is one of the main character traits of almost all the figures and accounts in part for the fact that, in spite of Bateman’s frequent public acts of violence and all the obvious signs the others are constantly faced with, he is never caught 14 . As Bateman points out: “Fear, recrimination, innocence, sympathy, guilt, waste, failure, grief, [are] things, emotions, that no one really [feels] anymore.” (AP 375) It is therefore appropriate that, at one point in the novel, Florian Niedlich 228 15 At the same time, this superficiality is another reason for Bateman’s never being caught: Due to his perfect façade, he simply never arouses any suspicion. 16 Trans.: ‘…the paper quality, color, and font of the business cards completely replace the characteristics of human beings’. 17 As Ursula Voßmann points out, the novel as a whole can be read as a caricature of and critical response to the Reagan era. There is no room here to discuss this in detail. In this he asks himself: “If I were an actual automaton what difference would there really be? ” (AP 343) Indeed, his apathy and the monotony of his life are reminiscent of a machine. The characters’ callousness, indifference, and estrangement from each other are so profound that they mistake one another’s identities throughout the novel. Another reason for these confusions is the fact that they are all interchangeable. The following conversation between Bateman and his girlfriend illustrates this: “‘Why Price? [’] […] ‘He’s rich,’ I say. ‘Everybody’s rich,’ she says […]. ‘He’s good-looking,’ I tell her. ‘Everybody’s good-looking, Patrick,’ she says remotely. ‘He has a great body,’ I say. ‘Everybody has a great body now,’ she says.” (AP 23) Bateman himself realizes: “Individuality [is] no longer an issue.” (AP 375) There are mainly two reasons for this: The first is that society as it is portrayed in the novel forces the individual into conformity. When asked why he still keeps on working even though he hates his job, Bateman replies that he just wants to fit in (cf. AP 237). And later on, during one of his nervous breakdowns, he recognizes that his entire socialization, all he has been taught - “principles, distinctions, choices, morals, compromises, knowledge, unity, prayer” - had only one purpose; “All it came down to was: die or adapt.” (AP 345) The second reason is everyone’s superficiality: “Surface, surface, surface was all that anyone found meaning in” 15 (AP 375). That the reader is dealing with a society in which nothing but appearances matter finds expression in Bateman’s characterization of other people, which consists solely of detailed descriptions of their clothing. It is a culture in which “Papierqualität, Farbe und Schrifttype der [Visitenkarten] das Charakteristische der Menschen vollständig […] [ersetzen]” 16 (Hurst 2001: 449). “[I]dentity becomes the sum of product labels with which the body is adorned.” (Messier 2004: online) At this point, the connection between society’s shallowness and the characters’ fetishization of material goods becomes evident. Apart from this sense of conspicuous consumption and ‘identity construction’, there is yet another reason for their rampant consumerism: It is a way to compensate for the meaninglessness of their lives. Bateman’s impression that “some kind of existential chasm opens before [him] while [he’s] browsing in Bloomingdale’s” and his concurrent feeling of “emptiness” (AP 179) clearly indicate this. Materialism and mass consumerism were characteristic trends of the Reagan era 17 . Another one was liberal capitalism. The novel reflects this and pushes “No Time for the Innocent” 229 context it may be added that American Psycho bears many resemblances to Martin Amis’s excellent novel Money: A Suicide Note (London: Jonathan Cape, 1984), which is an equally pungent criticism of the Thatcher (as well as the Reagan) era. 18 Trans.: ‘The late capitalist social order, as Ellis depicts it in American Psycho, turns humans into commodities’. 19 Trans.: ‘On the basis of the moral and cultural decline of the America of the eighties, American Psycho turns the glorified utopia of the Reagan era into an apocalyptic dystopia.’ 20 This is, of course, a highly allegorical reading of the text. The following argument will be set out within the framework of a more ‘literal’ reading. 21 His constant worry about the look of his hair is an obvious symptom of this insecurity. it to the extreme by showing the characters’ greed, the importance conferred upon capitalist success as the basis of social approval, and the corrupting influence of capitalism in general. When Bateman relates that the prostitutes are “bleeding but well paid” (AP 176), how, despite “major reservations”, one of them is induced to go with him again because “the money [he has] offered is simply too good” (AP 284) and when he “admit[s] to [himself] what a turnon it is encouraging [the] girls to debase themselves in front of [him] for what amounts to pocket change” (AP 301), money is shown as the root of the decline in morals. Christian Moser deduces: “Die spätkapitalistische Gesellschaftsordnung, wie sie Ellis in American Psycho vorführt, verwandelt den Menschen in eine Ware” 18 (2005: 122). This objectification of human existence reaches a terrible climax in the chapter sarcastically entitled “The Best City for Business”: It is implied that the real estate agency trying to sell Paul Owen’s apartment made the corpses, which Bateman had deposited there, disappear in order to avoid anything becoming public knowledge for fear of the decline in value which this would entail (cf. AP 366ff.). In this case, the perverted capitalist society functions as the murderer’s accomplice. The first phrase of the book, borrowed from Dante’s Divina Commedia, in which it is inscribed onto the gate of hell, demands: “ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE” (AP 3). It has been shown that the world of Patrick Bateman is indeed a kind of social hell. “American Psycho verkehrt die glorifizierte Utopie der Reagan Ära anhand des moralisch[en und] kulturellen Verfalls des Amerikas der achtziger Jahre in eine apokalyptische Dystopie.” 19 (Voßmann 2000: 113) As the yuppie turns into a psychopath, the American Dream of the 1980s - whose embodiment he is - turns into a nightmare 20 . Bateman’s acts of violence, cannibalism and necrophilia can be read as a fundamental reaction to the ‘hell’ in which he lives. It has two dimensions: an inward, psychological and an outward, subversive one. Over the course of the novel, it becomes clear that Bateman suffers tremendously. Inside, he is insecure 21 , sad, and above all lonely: “‘I just want to be loved,’” (AP 345) he sobs during a breakdown. This desire to be loved and fear of being rejected account for the fact that he frequently gets terribly upset about remarks disparaging yuppies, and at least in part also for his taste of music, since the three artists he mentions - Genesis, Whitney Hous- Florian Niedlich 230 22 In light of this paper’s line of argument, which establishes an immediate relation between the protagonist’s needs and his violence, it is telling that in Mary Harron’s film adaptation Bateman’s comments on music and his killings are combined. 23 Trans.: ‘… the continuation and escalation of the indirect violence of a social space void of meaning’. 24 Trans.: ‘An emotional vacuum and a communication breakdown make up the basis of his lust to kill.’ 25 Cf. Hurst 2001: 452, and Kohns 2001. ton, and Huey Lewis and the News - wrote many popular love songs, a few of which he even discusses. These songs can be said to reflect all that he is longing for 22 . Bateman’s violence, then, is much more than a thrill in an otherwise dreary life. As Hubert Winkels aptly points out, it is “‘[die] Fortsetzung und Steigerung der indirekten Gewalt eines sinnentleerten sozialen Raums’” 23 (quoted in: Hurst 2001: 454). “Emotionales Vakuum und gestörte Kommunikation bilden das Fundament seiner Mordlust.” 24 (Hurst 2001: 451) Violence, for Bateman, is a way to sublimate his repressed feelings, needs and drives. At one point in the novel, he himself states: “[M]y need to engage in … homicidal behavior on a massive scale cannot be, um, corrected, […] [b]ut I … have no other way to express my blocked … needs.” (AP 338) The novel implies that among the things he represses are also homosexual tendencies. His erection during a concert of the Irish band U2, caused by what resembles a kind of ‘homoerotic epiphany’ triggered by the lead singer Bono, his insecurity during the encounters with Luis Carruthers, and his hate of all “faggot[s]” (AP 295) all point in this direction. Furthermore, in the context of sublimation, Bateman’s acts of cannibalism can be interpreted as attempts to regain the lost relationship with other human beings and an archaic kind of communication 25 . The only scene in the whole novel in which the possibility of a true connection with another person opens up occurs toward the end, in a chapter appropriately entitled “End of the 1980s”. Bateman is having brunch with his secretary, Jean, when she tells him that she is in love with him. In this key chapter of the book the opposite worlds of Bateman and Jean (“a totally different world” [AP 378]) converge and, for the first and only time, reform, a genuine relationship, and thus an escape from Bateman’s hell seem possible. With her hopeful naivety and innocence, her true affection, and her optimistic love of life she differs from all the other characters in the novel and clearly represents an alternative way of being in the world (she is, in a way, the personification of the ‘end of the 1980s’) and thus, to Bateman, redemption. He himself realizes this: “I get an odd feeling that this is a crucial moment in my life and I’m startled by the suddenness of what I guess passes for an epiphany.” (AP 378) He feels that “she wants to rearrange [his] life in a significant way” (AP 378), and for a moment he even believes that he “might have the capacity to accept, though not return, her love” (AP 379). Yet, “No Time for the Innocent” 231 26 They actually do seem to be a couple afterwards, for, toward the end of the novel, Bateman talks about “taking Jean home, back to [his] place” (AP 389). 27 Just like the novel itself, e.g. through its extremely detailed descriptions of sex and violence, challenges literary conventions. 28 Cf. AP 346: “I place the gun, which is a symbol of order to me, back in the locker […].” (emphasis added) 29 Trans.: ‘The self becomes the central authority of creation of meaning.’ In this context and with reference to the social criticism of the members of the Frankfurt School, particularly Horkheimer and Adorno, Bateman and serial killers in general can be read as the embodiment of the principles of Enlightenment pushed to the extreme and turned upon themselves. For such a reading cf. also Hurst 2001. 30 Cf. Kohns 2001: 436f. He compares Bateman to a modern artist whose work is entirely selfreferential. Bateman seems to be beyond redemption. In spite of the fact that the chapter ends with the implication that there might be a shared future (cf. his taking her hand, the two and a baby looking at each other) 26 and with the words “I feel I’m moving toward as well as away from something, and anything is possible” (AP 380), nothing seems to change. On the contrary, his delusions get worse and his disintegration accelerates. And even though there are no more killing scenes after this, it is highly doubtful that Bateman will be able to stop. As he declares himself: “This relationship will probably lead to nothing … this didn’t change anything.” (AP 379) Despite everything, throughout the episode with Jean, there is always Madonna - like an omnipresent reminder - singing “‘life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone’” (AP 373) and the novel, whose opening lines implied that the world to be witnessed would be hell, ends with the words “THIS IS NOT AN EXIT” (AP 399). In spite of Jean, there is no escape, and “there is no catharsis” (AP 377). By killing and torturing others as a way to cope with his repressed emotions and drives, Bateman also revolts against society. This is the subversive dimension of his behavior. Through his violence, he breaks away from all accepted conventions 27 and defies an inhumane society that denies the fulfillment of essential needs. But there is more to it: The novel depicts a world that is cruel, chaotic, increasingly hyperreal, devoid of values and morals and, above all, meaningless. While Bateman reproduces this meaninglessness, he also counters it by creating his own meaningful universe, in which he can control events, which is ordered 28 and coherent. “[D]as Ich wird zur zentralen Instanz der Sinnsetzung.” 29 (Hurst 2001: 444) Creating pain, to him, means producing stable signs, “something that’s identifiable” (AP 391), and thus challenging the hyperrealism and the arbitrary signs of the information society. Thus, pain becomes synonymous with meaning 30 . When, after having slaughtered two escort girls and possibly eaten parts of them, he uses the blood of one of the corpses to scrawl the words “I AM BACK” (AP 306) on a wall, it seems that his violence also functions as a way to assert his existence, even something that comes close to an otherwise impossible individuality: “Als Kannibale[/ Serienmörder] kann sich Bateman als der schlechthin Florian Niedlich 232 31 Trans.: ‘As cannibal/ serial killer, Bateman can regard himself as the absolute Other.’ 32 Cf. also the scene in which he is actually accidentally called Batman and the one in which, after yet another killing, he is running down Broadway, “screaming like a banshee, [his] coat open, flying out behind [him] like some kind of cape” (AP 166, emphasis added). 33 His violence can also be read as an allegory of the collective violence of capitalist culture, his cannibalism as an extreme form of consumption. For such a reading cf. Voßmann 2000: 123. Andere fühlen.” 31 (Kohns 2001: 437) In this reading, his acts appear almost heroic - an ambiguity aptly expressed in his last name, which recalls Hitchcock’s psychopath Norman Bates as well as DC Comics’ superhero Batman 32 . Just like William Foster, Patrick Bateman is a product of society; its representative 33 , victim, and antagonist all at once. As in Falling Down, the capitalist society is shown as the true evil and the protagonist’s violence as a form of rebellion against it. However, unlike Schumacher’s movie, the novel does not offer any alternative to this reality. While in the figure of Jean, the reader is granted a vague idea of what such a different world may look like, it is always out of reach. Thus, while on a certain level, Bateman still wants to belong and ‘fit in’, he is nevertheless already far from society, “simply imitating reality” (AP 282) and creating his own perverse universe outside of it. Also, much more so than in Falling Down, ‘evil’ becomes an increasingly elusive concept in Ellis’s novel. Figures that could be described as good are absent, there is no positive double as Foster’s Prendergast, Bateman goes unpunished and, most importantly, in the novel’s world “there is no ‘culture’ or ‘humanity’ which would set boundaries or define Bateman’s actions as evil; what he does is so free of censure that it is not seen, not heard, and in a sense, does not happen at all” (Messier 2004: online). 4. Outside of Society: Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers “Everybody got the demon in here, okay. The demon lives in here. It feeds on your hate. It cuts, kills, rapes. It uses your weakness, your fear.” (Natural Born Killers [NBK]) “I’m a natural born killer.” (NBK) This statement could not have been uttered by William Foster or Patrick Bateman. While so far the protagonists’ violence has been attributed solely to social circumstances, in Natural Born Killers a new factor comes into play: genetics. Asked about when he first thought about killing, protagonist Mickey Knox replies: “Birth - I was thrown into a flaming pit of scum, forgotten by God.” (NBK) And he continues: “I mean I came from violence. It was in my blood. My daddy had it. His daddy had it. It was all just my fate. […] The wolf don’t know why he’s a wolf. The deer don’t “No Time for the Innocent” 233 know why he’s a deer. God just made it that way.” (NBK) His wife Mallory, too, acknowledges this biological determinism as the reason for their actions when she sings: “I guess I was born, naturally born, born bad.” (NBK) What Stone’s movie is about is not an essentialist notion of evil, but the predatory nature of man. This is the ‘demon’ everybody has inside. We are all ‘natural born killers’. Mickey and Mallory are simply the only ones who embrace this nature and do not bother to restrain it. Apart from the predatory images of wolves, snakes, hawks, etc. that appear throughout the movie, this notion is reinforced by the violent outbreaks of supposedly ‘normal’ or ‘good’ characters such as policeman Jack Scagnetti, who murders a prostitute, and journalist Wayne Gale, who, fulfilling Mickey’s prediction, realizes his “true calling in life” (NBK) once he gets a hold of a gun and starts shooting people. Director Oliver Stone confirms such a naturalistic reading: “I believe that all of us are born violent - we’re natural-born aggressors. We have a million-year-old reptilian brain with a neo-cortex of civilisation on top, but it’s doing a bad job of concealing the aggression.” (in: Smith 2000: 163) In terms of psychoanalysis, then, the movie illustrates the fundamental conflict between the Freudian superego and id. When the three teenagers interviewed for Gale’s TV show American Maniacs proclaim that they do not “believe in mass murder or that shit” and “respect human life and all” (NBK), but that if they were mass murderers, they would be Mickey and Mallory, this clash between the superstructure of social norms and values and their innate aggressive drives becomes evident. The great popularity of the homicidal couple is not only due to their idolization and glamorization by the media, but also to the fact that they appeal to these archaic drives in every human. In this context, Mickey and Mallory may also be understood as a personification of (one part of) the id. Thus, by chasing them in order to arrest them, Detective Scagnetti, whose otherwise repressed drives ‘slip out’ of his unconscious and take over as he strangles the prostitute, all the while muttering “Just kidding…” (NBK), is actually chasing after his own id. By mastering and controlling them, he wants to master and control himself. In this scene, as throughout the movie, many of the inserted shots represent the characters’ speech, thoughts and feelings. Above all, they function as visualizations of their repressed memories and emotions, their unconscious drives and desires. Just like animals, Mickey and Mallory only act according to their true nature. Yet, this biological determinism is undercut by the constant flashbacks to their traumatic childhood experiences: Mallory was beaten and raped for years and Mickey, too, had an abusive father, who later committed suicide. As the Indian recognizes, both (even though he says so only in relation to Mallory) suffer from the “sad sickness” (NBK). Thus, “[k]illing is a combination of genetics and environment” (Stone in: Smith 2000: 163). This applies to Scagnetti as well: He came to specialize in hunting down “psychos” (NBK) because his mother was one of the victims killed by Charles Florian Niedlich 234 34 Cf. also Stone in: Smith 2000: 162. 35 Cf. Hochenedel 1995: online: “The shaman symbolizes Jesus, the willing victim […]. Like Jesus, he is both victim and prophet of his own death.” Whitman in Austin, Texas in 1966. When a shot of Scagnetti murdering the prostitute is briefly inserted just after he has mentioned this, it becomes clear that he too is driven by a childhood trauma. In one of the movie’s most crucial episodes, the Indian tries to free Mickey and Mallory from their pain. While the two are asleep, the old man tries to bring about a cathartic experience by invoking their (especially Mickey’s) repressed childhood memories. Whether this attempt to initiate healing through re-enactment - one might say to ‘exorcize the demons’ that are their traumata - succeeds, remains unclear: While they excessively continue to kill during their escape, Mickey does seem to have changed when he is interviewed by Gale 34 and affirms twice that they are going to stop killing because “[t]he old man took it out of [them]” (NBK). In any case, Mickey wakes up from his nightmares in a rage and unintentionally shoots the Indian. This murder is significant in so far as it is the only one in the entire movie that makes them feel guilt and regret. In a way, it marks their loss of innocence. In the pair’s eyes, he did not deserve to die because he “lived outside the media-polluted world […] [and] was a cosmic fellow traveler, a natural man” (Courtwright 2000: 201). There are also strong religious undertones in this scene. After Mickey’s and Mallory’s arrival, the old man tells his grandson the story of a woman who finds a frozen snake and nurses it back to health. When it bites and lethally wounds her, she asks the snake why it did that and it replies: “‘Look bitch, you knew I was a snake.’” (NBK) Just as it is the very nature of the snake to bite, so it is also the couple’s nature to kill. Unlike the woman in his parable, the Indian is quite aware of this fact and accepts what seems to be his fate: “Twenty years ago, I saw the demon in my dreams. I was waiting for you.” (NBK) In biblical terms, the snake - which is associated with Mickey and Mallory throughout the movie (cf. e.g. their wedding rings and the tattoo on Mickey’s chest) - is a symbol of temptation and sin. The killing of the Indian, who represents the sacred and possibly Jesus 35 , is Mickey and Mallory’s original sin. In their ensuing ‘fall from grace’ they are separated and thus banned from paradise (cf. Mickey’s later remark that being with Mallory “was just like being in the Garden of Eden” [NBK]) and sent to the hell of Batongaville penitentiary. On yet another level, the episode with the Indian can also be read as an allegory of America’s loss of innocence. Thus, Mickey’s offer to exchange their tobacco for some fuel and the murder seem to allude to the trade, exploitation and massacre that marked the ‘beginning’ of America - the nation’s innocence was already lost long before it was actually founded. It is implied that this corruption is perpetuated through modern injustices such as “No Time for the Innocent” 235 36 It should be noted that, while there are many allusions in this episode, they lack a consistent logic that would permit more than a fragmentary allegorical reading, both in terms of religion and of American history. 37 Nonetheless, from a psychoanalytic point of view that ascribes their behavior to the abuse they suffered during their youth, their violence may have a purpose after all, namely to become popular (cf. the fact that they always leave one person alive to tell the tale and Mickey’s eager questions about the ratings they caused). This ambition could then be understood as a profound desire to be loved. the Vietnam War, in which the Indian’s son was killed. Given this corruption, it is appropriate that towards the end of the scene, we glimpse an American flag hanging upside-down on a wall 36 . The movie remains ambivalent not only about the roots of the couple’s violence, but also with regard to its purpose. In light of the fact that killing is part of their nature, there seems to be no objective at all. Unlike Warren Beatty’s Bonnie and Clyde, who dream of freedom and riches and with whom Mickey and Mallory otherwise have much in common, Stone’s killers just live out their predatory nature and “kill because they kill, there’s no moral sense or excuse for it” (Stone in: Smith 2000: 165). This is a radical difference to William Foster and Patrick Bateman: violence for violence’s sake 37 . Yet, there is also more to it. When, at the very end of the movie, Mickey explains to Gale why they have to execute him by saying, “Killing you and what you represent is a statement” (NBK), it becomes clear that their violence is not entirely self-referential after all. For what Gale symbolizes are, of course, the media. Just like the implied author of the movie, Mickey and Mallory are harsh critics of the media. Similar to the movie as a whole, the couple exploits the sensationalism of the media in order to turn it against itself. One of the main points of criticism is certainly the media’s obsession with violence. As Mickey phrases it while he is changing TV channels and finds nothing but violence: “I’ve been thinking about why they’re making all these stupid fuckin’ movies. Anybody out there in Hollywood believing in kissing anymore? ” (NBK) But the audience just gets what it wants after all. The last shot of the episode in which Mickey and Mallory are arrested has the policemen brutally beat Mickey up while a television crew is standing by, filming everything for their live broadcast. Above this symbolic scene towers the big sign of the drugstore that reads ‘Drug Zone’. It is this kind of violence that people are addicted to; this voyeurism is their drug. This obsession finds its most satirical expression in the fact that the transmission of Gale’s interview with Mickey coincides with that of the Super Bowl. The mass murderer has become as important and exciting as the cultural institution of the biggest sports event in America. But the media are not content with the mere representation of violence. Tabloid-TV shows such as Wayne Gale’s American Maniacs make killers like Mickey and Mallory not only into celebrities, but even into sexual icons and objects of desire. This association of violence and Florian Niedlich 236 38 Trans.: ‘The media and their agents are destroyed in the maelstrom of their own effectualness.’ 39 The movie stands out as highly self-reflexive in that the director is clearly aware of his movie’s complicity in the representation and exploitation of violence and constantly reflects and undermines this. Moreover, there is a meta-fictional level to the movie, so that it can also be read as an investigation into the limits of filmic representation. Unfortunately, there is no room here to elaborate on this. sex/ virility is satirized in the scene of the couple’s arrest that has already been mentioned. The news reporter describes this violent scene as follows: “Mickey’s quite virile”, “He has a very large gun”, and, when he is finally subdued, “He’s now rendered impotent” (NBK). The confusion of these two categories is also manifest in the Knox’s numerous fans carrying T-Shirts and banners that read ‘Murder me, Mickey! ’, etc. and who state that the two are “hot” (NBK). Another important aspect is the desensitizing effect of the excess of media violence. The movie implies that Mickey’s and Mallory’s “lack of sensitivity is due to desensitization to violence by too much exposure to media” (Hochenedel 1995: online). This relation between violence/ evil and media is made clear metaphorically through Gale’s participation in the killing of the prison riot and more openly at the Indian’s place when the words ‘demon’ and ‘too much t.v.’ are projected across the couple’s chests. As Stone puts it: “‘These two kids are desensitized […] to their environment - by their parents, by their upbringing, and above all by television.’” (quoted in: Courtwright 2000: 200) Their actions can be interpreted as a rebellion against the media society - however, just like Foster and Bateman, they are also products of this society and “have fully internalized the logic of television” (Beller 1998: 65). In Warden McClusky’s words: “The two are a walking reminder of how fucked-up this system really is.” (NBK) Thus, one might say that Mickey and Mallory represent the system turning against itself. When they shoot Gale, the creation destroys the creator just like “Frankenstein killed Dr Frankenstein” (NBK) and at the end the camera replaces the human being. “Die Medien und ihre Vertreter gehen im Sog ihrer eigenen Wirkungskraft unter.” 38 (Hurst 2001: 456) The movie’s critical attitude towards the media is also reflected in its highly unconventional form, which has been called a “phantasmagoria of aesthetic anarchy” (Smith 2000: 160). It is a postmodern collage that excessively mixes and plays with all kinds of movie genres, styles and techniques and comes very close to an audio-visual overkill. Thus, as Hurst shows, McLuhan’s identification of medium and message - i.e. violence - is fully realized. The movie self-reflexively 39 mirrors the form of the media: Der Angriff auf die Sinne der Zuschauer, die visuelle Fragmentierung der Welt, die ihrerseits eine neue synthetische Welt erzeugt, und die zügellose Kombination unterschiedlichster Stile, die sich zu einem einzigen chaotischen “No Time for the Innocent” 237 40 Trans.: ‘The assault on the senses of the viewers, the visual fragmentation of the world, which, for its part, creates a new synthetic world, and the unrestrained combination of the most different styles imaginable, which merge into one chaotic plethora of images, after all represent nothing else but the equally destructive and creative forces of the media, which destroy one reality in order to create another one.’ 41 Which is, of course, the title of one of Nietzsche’s most famous books. 42 The fact that at least Mickey is also a fatalist (cf. his numerous references to fate throughout the movie) reinforces their position. Since he sees all events as inevitable and determined by factors beyond his control, he is unburdened by feelings of guilt and responsibility. Bildersturm mischen, repräsentieren ja nichts anderes als die gleichermaßen destruktiven und kreativen Kräfte der Medien, die eine Realität zerstören, um eine andere Realität zu schaffen. 40 (Hurst 2001: 457) This new reality is the fragmented postmodern reality, is Baudrillard’s hyperreality, in which images have supplanted the real. Accordingly, the mise-en-scène of the movie is a “mediascape” (Beller 1998: 57). Stone’s movie continues what Ellis’s novel began. Not only is society, in this case particularly the sensationalist media, implicitly criticized for creating circumstances in which destructive dispositions are generated and cultivated and consequently again depicted as evil, but as in American Psycho ‘evil’ becomes more and more relative. “This film resists the traditional categories of good and evil, law and lawlessness; rather it deconstructs these categories by portraying the cop and even some of the victims (Mallory’s parents for instance) as criminals.” (Hochenedel 1995: online) There is no ‘good guy’ whose behavior would function as a foil to Mickey’s and Mallory’s acts and qualify them as evil; all the main characters are morally corrupt and aggressive. Violence is shown as part of man’s nature; not as evil, but natural. But the movie does not stop there. In the interview with Gale, it becomes clear that (apart from shooting the Indian) Mickey feels neither regret, which he regards as a “wasted emotion” (NBK), nor guilt, that quite on the contrary he considers murder not only as ordinary but even “pure” (NBK). “[T]raditional morality has no authority in Mickey’s life.” (Hochenedel 1995: online) He simply rejects it and establishes his own moral standards. As Hochenedel’s excellent analysis demonstrates, “[s]uch ethics are unmistakably Nietzschean” (1995: online). To Mickey and Mallory, there are no absolute moral truths. All norms and values are just arbitrary conventions. With this realization they have moved beyond good and evil 41 . As the Patti Smith song “Rock N Roll Nigger”, which appears several times throughout the movie, proclaims, Mickey and Mallory stand ‘outside of society’. Unlike Bateman, they have freed themselves from all social conventions. 42 The “moment of realization” (NBK), in which Mickey understood “that he can choose whether to be afraid or angry and that the value of the world around him […] depends on the value he attributes to it is liberating” (Hochenedel 1995: online). All traditional standards destroyed, Mickey and Mallory are free Florian Niedlich 238 43 Despite everything that has been said, Mickey still feels a need for salvation and forgiveness. While he finds such redemption in the worldly power of love embodied by Mallory (cf. “Now, you know the only thing that kills the demon: love. That’s how I know that Mallory was my salvation.” [NBK] and the lyrics “Love’s the only engine of survival” of Leonard Cohen’s closing song “The Future”) and not in God, one still wonders why this need, which clearly belongs in the realm of traditional morality, is felt at all. to create new ones “as God[s] of [their] world” (NBK). They embark on what Nietzsche called the transvaluation of all values. In doing so, they evolve into Nietzschean supermen: “You will never understand, Wayne. You and me, we’re not even the same species. I used to be you, then I evolved. From where you’re standing, you’re a man. From where I’m standing, you’re an ape.” (NBK) The basis for the transvaluation is, of course, the will to power, another possible interpretation of the ‘demon’ that everyone has inside. Accordingly, all those actions are qualified as ‘good’ which intensify and increase one’s life experience and power. Freed from all restraints, the will to power finds expression - in the couple’s case - in murder. Mickey, like Mallory, “affirms his life, satisfies his desires, and denies himself nothing. While violently ending other[s’] lives, he enriches his own by appeasing his lust for power and destruction.” 43 (Hochenedel 1995: online) Without doubt, Mickey and Mallory represent a somehow distorted version of Nietzsche’s supermen and of doctrines that were in fact meant more spiritually and metaphorically. Nevertheless, the subversiveness of what they say and do is definitely Nietzschean: the realization that all ethical standards are relative, the rejection of accepted, traditional values, and the creation of new ones. In this context, ‘evil’ becomes synonymous with ‘deviant’, is simply that which is new and revolutionary and questions the established order. Thus, evil “is not merely destructive, it is also a creative force” (Hochenedel 1995: online). 5. Results “Evil is a point of view.” (Anne Rice, Interview with a Vampire) In Falling Down, American Psycho and Natural Born Killers evil manifests itself primarily through violence. It has been shown how, in all three texts, violence functions as means of subversion. It is the protagonists’ instrument to rebel against and distance themselves from society. The analysis has brought to light the increasing degree of this detachment: Schumacher’s William Foster is an opponent of the ‘new America’ and longs for more traditional values and ideals. Yet, while he wants society to change, he does not reject it. On the contrary, he desires to be reintegrated into it and live the “No Time for the Innocent” 239 American Dream. Ellis’s Patrick Bateman has what Foster desires: He is part of society. However, this belonging, his need to fit in are above all due to social constraints that pressurize the individual into conformity. His innumerable killings constitute a way for him to break free, at least temporarily, from these constraints and create his own world away from society. This tendency culminates in the life of Stone’s Mickey and Mallory Knox, who have almost completely freed themselves from all social conventions and whose violence, for the most part, can even be regarded as self-referential. As means of subversion, violence necessarily also serves as a vehicle for social criticism. While in Falling Down and American Psycho it is mainly the numerous problems caused by liberal capitalism that come under attack, the criticism of Natural Born Killers is primarily directed at the sensationalist media. In the former two, the American Dream is shown as corrupted, in Stone’s movie it is not even an issue anymore, an ideal lost a long time ago. Formally, Schumacher uses a sober realism and what may be called the ‘Everyman strategy’ to convey his message, whereas Ellis’s and Stone’s texts are postmodern satires/ pastiches. In the course of the analysis it has become clear that all protagonists are equally antagonists, products and victims of their respective society. Due to this and to the fact that, as in all three texts, society is revealed as the greatest evil, the lines between goodness and evil are already getting blurred in Falling Down. Similar to the growing alienation from society, this tendency is continued in American Psycho, where evil becomes even more elusive, and climaxes in the almost absolute relativity of Natural Born Killers. Thus, to take up Anne Rice’s phrase, evil is indeed ‘a point of view’. The three texts reveal that the category of ‘evil’ depends entirely on one’s frame of reference. It may simply be a form of subversion - a revolt against the greater evil that is the world. References Beller, Jonathan L. (1998). “Identity Through Death/ The Nature of Capital: The Media- Environment for Natural Born Killers”. Post Identity 1/ 2. 55-67. Clover, Carol J. (1993). “‘Falling Down’ and the Rise of the Average White Male”. In: Pam Cook / Philip Dodd (eds.). Women and Film: A Sight and Sound Reader. London: Scarlet Press. 138-47. Courtwright, David T. (2000). “Way Cooler Than Manson: Natural Born Killers”. In: Robert Brent Toplin (ed.). Oliver Stone’s USA: Film, History, and Controversy. Lawrence: Univ. Press of Kansas. 188-201. Ellis, Bret Easton (2000). American Psycho. London: Picador. Hochenedel, Heidi Nelson (1995). “Natural Born Killers: Beyond Good and Evil”. The Oliver Stone Web Site. http: / / www.geocities.com/ Hollywood/ 2682/ heidi1.htm (accessed 13 August 2006). Florian Niedlich 240 Hurst, Matthias (2001). Im Spannungsfeld der Aufklärung: Von Schillers “Geisterseher” zur TV-Serie “The X-Files”: Rationalismus und Irrationalismus in Literatur, Film und Fernsehen 1786-1999. Heidelberg: Winter. Kohns, Oliver (2001). “Kannibalische Nachrichtentechnik. Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho und Marcel Beyers Das Menschenfleisch”. In: Daniel Fulda / Walter Pape (eds.). Das Andere Essen. Kannibalismus als Motiv und Metapher in der Literatur. Freiburg im Breisgau: Rombach. 411-42. Light, Andrew (1999). “Boyz in the Woods: Urban Wilderness in American Cinema”. In: Michael Bennett / David W. Teague (eds.). The Nature of Cities: Ecocriticism and Urban Environments. Tucson: Univ. of Arizona Press. 137-56. Messier, Vartan (2004). Canons of Transgression: Shock, Scandal, and Subversion from Matthew Lewis’ “The Monk” to Bret Easton Ellis’ “American Psycho”. University of Puerto Rico Web Site. http: / / grad.uprm.edu/ tesis/ messiervartan.pdf (accessed 8 August 2006). Moser, Christian (2004). Kannibalische Katharsis: Literarische und filmische Inszenierungen der Anthropophagie von James Cook bis Bret Easton Ellis. Bielefeld: Aisthesis. Olson, Greta (2004). “Inarticulate, Violent White Men”. In: Michael Draxlbauer / Astrid M. Fellner / Thomas Fröschl (eds.). (Anti-)Americanisms. Wien: Lit. 233-51. Schumacher, Joel (dir.) (1993). Falling Down. Warner Brothers. Smith, Gavin (2000). “Oliver Stone: Why Do I Have To Provoke? ”. In: José Arroyo (ed.). Action/ Spectacle Cinema: A Sight and Sound Reader. London: British Film Institute. 158-68. Stone, Oliver (dir.) (1994). Natural Born Killers. Warner Brothers. Voßmann, Ursula (2000). Paradise Dreamed: Die Hölle der 80er Jahre in Bret Easton Ellis’ Roman “American Psycho”. Essen: Die Blaue Eule. Whitelegg, Drew (2000). “‘Keeping Them Peeled’: Falling Down, Vision and Experience in the Modern City.” Scope: An Online Journal of Film Studies. http: / / wubi006.bibliothek.uniwuerzburg.de/ InfoGuideClient/ availability.do? methodToCall=runAvailabilityCheck& curPos=3&identifier=1_24192___IG.33.24192&IGRSCPos=26 (accessed 20 July 2006). Florian Niedlich Neuphilologisches Institut - Anglistik und Amerikanistik Julius-Maximilians-Universität Würzburg