In the future, everyone will have their own reality show and their own musical

Well, if they can make musicals out of Quasimoto, the Titanic disaster, or The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, it’s hardly surprising that they’ve finally gotten around to American Psycho.

The postmodern, transgressive 1991 Bret Ellis novel (and 2000 film), American Psycho has all the elements essential for a staged musical; actors butchered like cutlets; stage awash with gallons of blood; rape, torture, mutilation before death, cannibalism, necrophilia afterward.  And the obligatory which-is-worse theme; serial killer or Wall Street rogue?

To be (more) fair (than it deserves), the novel’s end leaves unfinished whether the antihero actually lived with corpses roof-high in his apartment or that he merely hallucinated his murder spree altogether. 

Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, writer of the grisly words (but not the music?) told the New York Post,”There are murders…”I think there’s going to be a lot of blood.”

For two years the thing’s been skulking, churning but  will finally be ready for eager theatergoers in another year.

Possibilities are endless.  They haven’t put music yet to Macbeth, Lear or Oedipus Rex, and can Charlie Manson, Uncle Joe Stalin or Adolph-and-Eva be far behind?