Bret Easton Eillis does chap laps

Words By Liam Aldous

It’s no wonder Bret Easton Ellis seems so fucked up. If the insight into his world during his book tour in Melbourne is any guide, then it’s not surprising that he populates his books with narcissistic sociopaths.

It always frustrates me when trust-fund-baby PR girls, who rarely venture far from Armadale, are put in charge of showcasing Melbourne to the latest fly-in celebrity. It’s these same clueless princesses that always seem to suggest questionable establishments on Greville Street in Prahran as “Melbourne’s must-sees.” It’s no surprise then that Ashton Kutcher recently tweeted “Melbourne is shit.” Well Ashton, not that we value your opinion too much, but we are still inclined to agree – the Melbourne you saw is SHIT!

Unfortunately, Bret Easton Ellis, author of all things sick, wonderful, and scarily accurate, was treated to the same tired routine.

 After dining in possibly the most revolting bar/restaurants south of the river with said PR princess and default entourage of gay glitterati, their tragic destination was yet another hub of Prahran pretentiousness.

Cooler heads prevailed, and, with the intervention of someone who knew the friend of the cousin of a B-grade Australian celebrity, the circus of sycophants and scenesters headed to a more relaxed venue on Chapel Street.
It wasn’t all this bad though and should in no way reflect the judgment of Ellis himself. In fact, his hour long staged conversation at the Athenaeum theatre on Friday night, was a majestic showcase of the author’s wit, intelligence, apathy, and frustration with humanity.

Tickets sold out within five minutes when they went on sale a month ago. And, on this Friday the 13^th, the crowd of mainly inner-city hipsters was savoring every word. Topics ranged from his infatuation with Delta Goodrem (a revelation which provoked the ire of his fans on Twitter, e.g. “I’ve lost all faith in you as an artist!”), his travails on Grindr (admitting that he’s never met anyone face-to-face from Grindr but it does keep him mildly entertained), his summations of American empire and post-empire (eg Julia Roberts and Croissants are empire while Shia Lebouf is post-empire) and his staple diet of mineral water and Xanax.

Predictably, the juiciest moments came when it was time for questions from the audience. Ellis reminded everyone that he rarely ventures out of his self-constructed cave because he tires of the predictable barrage of questions thrown his way. “Mr Ellis, could you please explain the significance of Patrick Bateman’s hedonistic tendencies vis-à-vis societal materialism and contemporary pop-culture bla bla bla bla…” Any question even breaching upon the aforementioned cock nonsense was met with an audible groan from Ellis and a subsequent cheer from the audience.

The best question came from a cheeky little hipster who asked, “I know this may be a weird question but do you ever wish someone would kill you at the peak of your career?” The audience murmured with approval and even Ellis was seemingly impressed although slightly dumbfounded by the question.

However, when another idiot asked, “Who would win in a wrestling match between Christian Bale and Patrick Bateman and you and James Van Der Beek?” – which didn’t even really make sense – it turned into something resembling the revenge of the peanut gallery.

Things only got worse when a drunk “educator” took to the mic and slurred a nonsensical monologue that was more anecdote than question. Ellis responded with a question of his own. “What do you think guys? 4 drinks? 6 drinks? 8 drinks?” The offended ‘educator’ responded with a defensive tirade but was soon booed into submission.

While thoroughly enjoyable for the audience, Ellis’ admission that he only ever embarks on these book tours every 5-6 years was no surprise at all. The subsequent Saturday night, where he was paraded along Chapel Street (which, let’s face it, is basically a suburban King Street) was an embarrassing end to his Australian tour.

The fact that he was soon joined by some Collingwood footballers and their WAGS was a fitting and sardonic metaphor for the absurdity of it all. When introduced to the esteemed author, an unnamed footballer declared “Aw my god I love that movie!”

If anything, at least Bret Easton Ellis was given enough material for another 5-6 years of writing. He is busy man, currently working on a movie called The Golden Suicides and a television series.

I hope you took down notes Bret –next time you head back this way, get SPOOK to do your press and  if you do decide to translate your Melbourne experiences into characters on the page, I hope they meet a grisly end.