In her adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis's crabbed social satire, American Psycho, filmmaker Mary Harron expanded on his bloody conceits; this sequel spoofs similarly repellent material with occasionally amusing results. FBI expert Robert Starkman (William Shatner) left the field for a university classroom following the unsolved slaying of American Psycho Patrick Bateman (Michael Kremko). Little does he know that "Rachael" (Mila Kunis, of TV's That '70s Show), his prize pupil at West Washington College, has more than an academic acquaintance with murder. While just a child, Rachel accompanied her babysitter, Clara (Kate Kelton), on a date with Bateman; after he added Clara to his list of victims, the precocious Rachael (Jenna Perry) killed him. Now Rachael has her sights set on becoming the FBI's most wanted manhunter, but must compete with three other students — Brian Leads (Robin Dunne), Cassandra Blaire (Lindy Booth) and Keith Lawson (Charles Officer) — for the coveted position of teaching assistant to Starkman, a stepping stone to Quantico. Following her self-imposed imperative, Rachael eliminates a meddling guidance counselor, then dispatches Brian and Cassandra, making Cassandra's death look like suicide precipitated by her affair with a married professor — Starkman. Oddly, Rachael feels the need for a shoulder on which to cry and enlists the help of Starkman's shrink, Dr. Eric Daniels (Geraint Wyn-Davies), then toys with Daniels as he becomes the only living witness to her perfect crime wave. When Starkman rejects her sexual advances, the demented Rachael pushes him out a window and then fakes her own death. She then calmly assumes a new identity and realizes her dream of becoming a G-(wo)man. Can Daniels upset Rachael's apple cart and avenge Starkman's murder?
Structurally similar to the 1994 collegiate black comedy GETTING IN/STUDENT BODY), this horror lampoon — directed by indie up-and-comer Morgan J. Freeman — blithely ridicules FBI profiling, psychoanalysis and professorial sexual misconduct. It's less successful in its efforts to paint serial killers and their trackers as soul mates, and in the end this campy chiller crucifies the American success ethic with more vigor than elan. --Robert Pardi
