THE ANTISOCIAL PERSONALITY

"Whenever we needed money, we’d rob the airport.
To us it was better than Citibank."
-Henry Hill/Nicholas Pileggi, Martin Scorsese

The Antisocial Personality - A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others. Most significant is the substantial lack of remorse for the crimes that they commit. They also often exhibit an inability to control their violent impulses. They erupt without warning.

Three Films That Got It Right...
SILENCE OF THE LAMBS - Clarice Starling is a tyro FBI agent eager to find The Silence of the Lambs, the quieting of the voices of innocent creatures being slaughtered that have haunted her since youth. In order to do this, in order to stop the rampage of mutilation being carried out by a killer named Buffalo Bill, Clarice must enlist the help of Dr. Hannibal Lector. "Hannibal the Cannibal." Dr. Lector (he is a psychiatrist) is incarcerated in what can only be described as the deepest, darkest dungeon that our judicial system has to offer for crimes his epithet aptly signifies. He eats the internal organs of those who annoy him. He is so dangerous that he doesn't need to touch you to get so thoroughly inside of you that he can kill you. Dr. Lector is a man of exquisite intelligence and a near complete absence of emotion and conscience. Though he is sealed off completely from any human contact, though he is the recipient of the harshest and strictest penal conditions, he somehow always manages to make the rules. And Clarice, in order to save the life of a young girl, readily follows those orders.
WALL STREET - Millionaire monster of Wall Street, Gordon Gekko (aptly named after a lizard that can shed its skin to avoid capture) spends his days raiding companies and stealing them away from their stockholders. So rich is Gekko, he hardly seems concerned with money earned or lost - the prize in his eyes is the pleasure taken from vanquishing his opponent - upper class men Gekko despises for their blue blood breeding. Into Gekko's oak paneled lair comes working class kid, Bud Fox, trying to break out of the second-class lot in life. He works as a broker well aware that he is quickly on his way to the minor leagues. Gekko, for the price of Bud's soul, offers to make his wildest dreams come true.
SERIAL MOM - In Baltimore, Beverly Sutphin (Serial Mom) proudly steers her model suburban family through a life of stringent domestic bliss. She joyfully recycles; she nurtures her children with a kind but firm hand. She can whip up a meatloaf that inspires awe. Yet when the kids are off to school, when her dentist husband is off to tend to his patients, Beverly delights in making obscene phone calls to her neighbor, using language that would make a longshoreman blush. She also runs over her son's math teacher with the family station wagon when a PTA meeting doesn't go her way.
he Antisocial Personality (once referred to as the Psychopathic Personality) has been a staple of films-specifically horror and crime-from the first days of Hollywood. The appeal of these films appears to be as universal and hideously attractive today as it was with Fritz Lang's 1931 film, M (notable for Peter Lorrie’s shocking performance of raw nerve). Our fascination continued through early Hollywood classics such as Double Indemnity and Strangers on a Train, finding its way to such recent works as Pulp Fiction and Natural Born Killers. The objects of all the interest and allure are (to name but a few of their more stellar characteristics) morally corrupt, ruthless, soulless, evil, and murderous-the proverbial worst nightmare. By many accounts, they are also the favored sons for those in the movie business.

The term "psychopath" comes from the roots "psycho" (meaning mind) and "pathic" (meaning sick). Mindsick: a fusion of words that says it all and tells you nothing. And though the term “psycho” is evocative, it is hardly descriptive. Nowadays, the more broadly based clinical term “Antisocial” is favored by the psychological community. (For our purposes, the term Antisocial will be used, whereas “psychopath” or “psycho” is the term most widely used in the films referenced.)

Audiences are fascinated by the Antisocial Personality for the simple reason that they find it appalling. An audience reacts this way because the Antisocial is the closest thing we have to a human monster-and monsters (especially the human kind) are the bread and butter of generation upon generation of storytelling that reaches far beyond the history of film. Relevant writings and admonitions extend back to Sophoclies and Euripides. Shakespeare, too, put into verse a few things he needed to get off his chest. The bottom line is that in the big business of motion pictures, the Antisocial Personality has an essence so pure-so accessible-that it plays as well in Kansas as it does in Katmandu. The Antisocial is easy to identify because the characteristics are often highly black and white. Being that these characteristics are easy to identify, they are easily assimilated and installed under an audience's skin.

Their influence in the film market can be categorized into four subgenera. Far from scientific and hardly academic, the four categories do cut to the chase:
º The Scary Antisocial
º The Clever Antisocial
º The Uptown/Downtown Antisocial
º The Comic Antisocial (an illustrious and short list)

The Scary Antisocial entails the actual mother lode. These films range from slasher films (the successions of Nightmare's, Halloween's, Friday the 13th's, the Scream’s) to more character-driven psychodramas (Single White Female, Blue Velvet, Kiss of Death, The Stepfather). They include characters we hate because they are so methodically demonic (Cape Fear, In Cold Blood, Reservoir Dogs) and characters we love because their self-absorption into evil is . . . well, just so damned interesting (Pulp Fiction, Psycho, Taxi Driver).
The Clever Antisocial encompasses the more sophisticated personality such as the femme fatale. It is a category in which smart women and evil deeds get to shine (Black Widow, Body Heat, Double Indemnity, Basic Instinct, La Femme Nikita). Although sometimes inhabited by an occasional male character, it is rare to find them here. For some curious reason audiences prefer their male Antisocials plain and mean, while at the same time favoring women with an IQ as sharp as their aim.
The Uptown/Downtown Antisocial is where we find organized (and disorganized) mayhem: Mafia and gangsters (Bugsy, The Godfather, GoodFellas, Miller's Crossing, Scarface) and outlaws on the lamb (Bonnie and Clyde, The Grifters, High Sierra, Sugarland Express, A Perfect World). A few blocks north and a bit more tidied up you’ll find corporate goons, lawless lawyers, and political hoodlums (Wall Street, Disclosure, The Firm, Winter Kills).
In the final category is found the Comic Antisocial. Given the nature of the beast, it is not a fashion often attempted by authors. In all cases, the comedy is black. This monstrous personality is ripe for lampoons and the results can offer substantial rewards (To Die For, Serial Mom, Repo Man, Swimming with Sharks, The Opposite of Sex).

Worth noting about the Antisocial is that although characters such as Sharon Stone's cold blooded and sexy Catherine Tramell (Basic Instinct) are usually Antisocial, not all Antisocials are murderers. Some Antisocials are soundly functional within society. Keep in mind that the Antisocial Personality occurs (as do all personalities) on a continuum and that there is such a thing as the “Good Antisocial.” The Good Antisocial channels his demons toward the forces of justice. You will, however, be hard pressed to find one without a dark side. It is a category overrun with spies, superheroes, no-name cowboys, and cops with a chip on their shoulder (James Bond films; Day of the Jackal; The Ipcress File; Dick Tracy; Batman; The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly; Dirty Harry; Unforgiven).

With the exception of the slice-n-dice variety (a la Halloween), all of these subgenera have one important quality in common: although not always the scariest, they are by far the most disturbing of films produced. The Antisocial character with a significant, full-bodied presence in a story (such as a main character) usually means we the audiences are going to experience a certain degree of empathy for their plight: the plight of a soulless creature given some modicum of soul. Not an easy trick to pull off. When an Antisocial character allows us to stand in his shoes and to see through his eyes, the effect can be as unnerving as it is unforgettable. Barry Levinson/James Toback's spectacularly realized Bugsy is a standout-the film aggressively challenges the audience to try and not be charmed by the ruthless gangster Ben Siegel. Warren Beatty would return on several occasions to the Antisocial (McCabe and Mrs. Miller, Dick Tracy, Bugsy).

Evoking compassion and/or understanding for an individual so removed from anything we might experience is perhaps the greatest magic the spell of film can weave. Growing up, we find certain movies for which we will always have fond memories; perhaps it’s a movie like It’s A Wonderful Life or The Black Stallion. For each of us there are well-remembered images through which we fell in love with the movies. But rarely were these the stories that struck a chord so deep we found ourselves inexplicably drawn to check under the bed or turn on lights before entering a dark hall. The movies I am referring to here are something altogether different. They left memories, all right. They simply were not the ones considered fond. Some of us still check under the bed. Whether we hate the Antisocial or love him, our knee-jerk response to him stays in our blood and nerves and psyche. The reason being that this particular genre does something none of the others can: it takes the old adage of "it's only a movie" and makes the audience regret ever having thought or said those words.

he Antisocial Personality has a pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others. Most significant is the substantial lack of remorse for the crimes they commit. Antisocials also often exhibit an inability to control their violent impulses. They erupt without warning. Another benchmark of the Antisocial Personality is a tendency to act out the literal, because they have great difficulty with abstract thought. The Antisocial Personality might opt to kill and eat a loved one instead of keeping the loved one with them by the more symbolic act of reliving memories through family snap-shots or lockets (more on this Epicurean concept in a moment).

The most prominent aspect-a pattern of disregard for the rights of others-is the result of an unmitigated quest for absolute power and control. The Antisocial Personality so fears a lack of power in himself that he can only assuage that fear through the despotic manipulation of his environment. In Chicago, an itinerant ex-con, Henry (Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer), moves from job to job and lives with his old prison pal, Otis. He has been recently paroled from prison after stabbing-or shooting, or bludgeoning-his mother. He can't quite remember the details, except that it happened on his fourteenth birthday. Working at temporary gigs as, ironically enough, an exterminator, he moves through the world dispassionately. He leaves behind a string of murdered women, some violently mutilated, some cleanly dispatched with a simple, single bullet. The murders, while creating hysteria and chaos in the world, bring a sense of order to Henry's world. Beverly Sutphin (Serial Mom) must keep the world orderly and neat, separating plastic from glass, and will kill those who violate her sense of the world's order. When her son Chip's math teacher suggests that Chip might benefit from therapy and that the Sutphin family may not be as ideal as their carefully maintained veneer would have outsiders believe, Beverly's ordered world is threatened. She has no choice but to kill the instructor.

This fear of powerlessness prompts the Antisocial Personality to construct elaborate defense mechanisms to keep him safe. Beverly Sutphin (Serial Mom) uses the ultrasterile facade of suburban respectability. Gordon Gekko (Wall Street) hides behind a fortress of glass towers built with the emotion-proof mortar of stock commodities and the endless surplus of cold hard cash. Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs) uses his extreme intelligence and circuitous logic as an aegis to keep others from getting a glimpse inside-to gain access to his inner, insecure, wounded self. Lecter takes control early in the game, manipulating his opponent's fear and revulsion, creating an intellectual maze. Since he creates the game, he holds the power. He is smart enough to know how repellent his actions are to the normal person, and he uses this knowledge to put them on the defense. His opponents fearful, he thereby maintains the upper hand.

Having the upper hand plays significantly in the 1990 Curtis Hanson/David Koepp thriller, Bad Influence. Rob Lowe gives an arresting performance as a stranger known only as Alex. In the course of the story he takes control over the life of a timid financial analyst, Michael Boll (James Spader). When it is discovered Alex has beaten up a colleague of Boll’s, Boll orders the manipulative Alex out of his life. Reacting as a jilted lover, Alex steals everything inside Boll's apartment-literally, down to the last picture nail. Alex does this-he later tells Boll-for no other reason than to show Boll he can. Alex uses this demonstration to horrify, control, and dominate his new friend. As did Hannibal Lecter, Alex creates the game and the rules, letting his repellent behavior put his opponents on the defense.

Bad Influence’s screenwriter, Koepp, explored similar terrain (also with considerable results) two years earlier in the 1988 underrated edgy thriller, Apartment Zero. Director Hanson, for his part, would come back to re-explore this terrain two more times. In 1994, Hanson would deliver a wild ride with the criminals-on-the-loose adventure, The River Wild. Four years later, Hanson would helm with spectacular success, L.A. Confidential. With this accomplished film he offers an extraordinary array of examples superbly envisioned.

As earlier indicated this desire for power is not always lurking in the dark with big kitchen knives. Sometimes we find it in broad daylight and wearing a police badge. In addition to the required Antisocial bad guys, L.A. Confidential offers up the character of Officer Bud White. Russell Crowe delivers a riveting and hooded performance that affords us the opportunity to witness an Antisocial Personality that functions within the constraints of society. Albeit, his police badge gives him more license to legally vent his compulsions where most people would not be allowed. Officer Bud White is a character reacting to much of the film's story, guided by the voices and images of his own dark and disturbed past. The same holds true for the tough detectives made famous by authors such as Mickey Spillane and Raymond Chandler and idolized in films such as The Big Sleep, The Long Good-bye, Key Largo, and in more recent years with films such as Chinatown, Lethal Weapon, and L.A. Confidential. They all feature fractured men as heroes: men haunted by a dark past and living at the edges of society, the fine line between good and evil blurred at best. Clint Eastwood created an industry and reinvented his career with the man-with-no-name spaghetti westerns (A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More). No fool he or Hollywood, these films were followed by the enormously successful Dirty Harry series. Finally, he perfected the Antisocial beyond cash at the box office to Oscar gold with Unforgiven.

The quest for omnipotent control takes precedence over all other considerations-human life, for example, or the laws of God and man. The Antisocial is nothing if they are not driven. Driven to what is another matter. Ben Siegel (Bugsy) wants to invent Las Vegas as well as assassinate the Italian dictator Mussolini. Despite being one of the most ruthless killers in the country and the head of organized crime in Hollywood, Siegel is obsessed with being the hero that must kill the dreaded Mussolini and save the free world. Near the end of Lawrence Kasdan's steamy homage to film noir, Body Heat, the poor chump, Ned Racine (William Hurt), tries to explain the woman who suckered him into committing murder and left him to take the fall: "That was her special gift. She was relentless. Maggie was the kind of person who could do what was necessary. Whatever was necessary." Crime fighters from Mike Hammer to Dick Tracy are obsessed with getting their men to the point that their lives are isolated and lonely-abandoned by wives, girlfriends, and family. Gordon Gekko (Wall Street) will walk over the bodies of as many corporate raid victims as is necessary in his desire to satiate the thirst of his obsession. He will bust unions and devastate the lives of factory workers if it will quell the pain he feels for his working stiff background. In Gus Van Sant/Buck Henry's 1995 black comedy, To Die For, Nicole Kidman plays to perfection Suzanne Stone, a woman who will stop at nothing to achieve stardom in a television career. That includes the murder of her husband. Early on, it becomes clear that she is a force to be reckoned with. Suzanne chooses for her honeymoon a resort hotel that is hosting a television news media convention. It is Suzanne's hope to use the ceremonial occasion of holy matrimony to do some all important industry networking.

This instinct for self-determination is the fuel the Antisocial needs to achieve his power and control. Control is the key to power. Pacific Heights tenant from hell, Carter Hayes (Michael Keaton), sets about methodically destroying the lives of his young landlords. Cape Fear's Max Cady plays the Bowden family the way a cat would a terrified mouse-landing swats now and then, terrifying it into submission. Control. Bond and Batman use their gadgets to attain the upper hand. The Jake Gittes's and the Mike Hammer's capitalize on their ability to sink into the underworld. Hannibal Lecter, his smarts. Beverly Sutphin has her fanatic Martha Stewart-like domestic fervor. It is all about control.

Just as the Antisocial is not always the villain, his overpowering need to call the shots can also manifest itself in a humorous outlet. The 1967 cornerstone film, Bonnie and Clyde, includes a wonderful interlude halfway through the story in which, in order to feel as though they have friends, the two gangsters kidnap the mousy Eugene Grizzard (a smart performance by Gene Wilder) and his timid fiancée. They don’t appear to be hostages or in much physical danger. They’ve been taken for what seems to be a rueful desire for plain old neighborly conversation-some ordinary civility missing from the Barrow's Gang life-something to hide the ugly truth that they are on the lam as bank robbers and savage murderers. That idyllic world is shattered the moment the Gene Wilder character mentions he is an undertaker. The real world comes crashing down on Bonnie and Clyde and in a heartbeat the young couple find themselves standing on a deserted country road.

Nothing will be permitted to come between the Antisocial and the control he seeks. When someone or something (usually someone) comes between the Antisocial and his control, we have the all important plot point. Suzanne Stone (To Die For) decides to kill her husband when he suggests she give up her dream of becoming a television news personality and go to work for his father, videotaping special events at the family restaurant. When he tells Suzanne that her dreams are only dreams and that she will never go anywhere, it proves too much for her to accept. In a marvelous effect that captures the tone of this Antisocial character, the director (Gus Van Sant) literally chooses to shutter down the view on the husband as he stupidly makes his pronouncements about Suzanne's fate and, in the process, seals his own. The P.O.V. is Suzanne's, and as the husband (Matt Dillon) babbles on, the room around him vanishes into black. The view telescopes down to merely him. All Suzanne can see is the horrible obstacle to her goals. All she can perceive is one man, one problem, and one solution.

arcissistic qualities are quite common in the Antisocial Personality. The Narcissistic Personality is characterized by exalted, self-centered behavior and a grandiosity about themselves, their achievements, and their place in life. There is also a discernible lack of empathy and a sense of entitlement that blinds them to all needs except their own. Suzanne Stone (To Die For) interviews for her first job as a gopher at a local cable station. She proudly announces that the reason she must be hired is that through television and the news she sees herself as a voice to the people. She considers herself-in the most pious sense-a messenger. Ben Siegel (Bugsy) impulsively buys homes and luxury cars on the spot and out from under people who had no intention to sell. Later, he proves himself more worried about how his photograph looks in the morning newspaper than the fact he is sitting in jail on murder charges. Virginia Hill, Siegel's love interest in Hollywood, would put it succinctly: "We both want whatever we want, whenever we want it, and we both want everything."

To feed their narcissism, it is not surprising to see the Antisocial brag about his exploits. Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs) is only too happy to recount the gruesome details of his crimes to anyone who will listen, going so far as to name the side dishes and wine he had when consuming a victim's liver. When the Baltimore police come to the Sutphin (Serial Mom) household investigating the death of Chip's math teacher, Beverly is quick to correct them that it was a murder and not merely an accident. Bonnie Parker of Bonnie and Clyde fame writes poems for the newspapers about their exploits and legendary status. Bad Influence's Alex murders a young woman in Michael Boll's apartment, capturing it on videotape. While at a party in his home, Gordon Gekko tells his young protégé to "stick around for the fun" as he invites a competitor over for the purpose of making him squirm. Gekko's hatred for his competitor is palpable and decidedly more apparent than any excitement he has about the money he stands to gain from the business deal.

This high level of narcissism has an enormous effect in the area of employment and work and can lead to remarkably contrasting end results. It can lead to big success or to tragic failure. At one end of the spectrum, the Antisocial Personality has a tendency toward inconsistent work habits and failing to honor financial obligations. They follow no rules but their own. To acknowledge rules would strike the Antisocial as a sign of weakness-it would allow others to control them. Drifters are at the center of the core characters in High Sierra, The Grifters, Miami Blues, La Femme Nikita, and Bonnie and Clyde. Clint Eastwood's man-with-no-name cowboy is conceivably the ultimate drifter (even named so in The High Plains Drifter). At the other end of the spectrum, the “drifting” nature can be anything but aimless and can bring great success. For all intents and purposes, millionaire Gordon Gekko of Wall Street lives in a drifting world of stocks and bonds-never sure what the next turn in the road may hold-never so tied to anything that he would not gamble it all to appease his personal obsession. Gekko is not wealthy and successful because it was a smart thing to do and his impulses motivated him to do well with money. Gekko got to where he is by way of his obsession with his past-a common trait of the Antisocial. Gekko battles with his feelings of inferiority growing up as a second class citizen. His lot in life afforded him only the opportunity to go to a less than stellar college-the type of school that situates you in the right places, playing in the best game. He was told he could never compete with the Ivy League rich kids. It is the silver spoon kids that Gekko is out to destroy. The money seems a byproduct, an accessory. In much the same way, Henry (Portrait of a Serial Killer) is little concerned about how temporary his temporary job has become. How could he be? His thoughts are with his actions-which happen to be that he tends to kill any woman that comes within throttling distance. Gekko takes out the competition that reminds him of all the Ivy Leaguers. In the women Henry kills, he is looking to kill his mother. The past lives in the present.

When there is financial acclaim and success, it is not too surprising, nor does it come as much of a shock, to discover that the business at hand is the business of crime. The business (both big and small) of crime is well suited to the Antisocial. They tend to gravitate toward illegal operations-occupations above the law-since laws are made to dictate and control behavior. They do not subscribe to others' notions of good and evil, right and wrong. They make their own laws, the primary dictate being that any behavior on their part is acceptable. They are ideally suited to illegality because there is no ceiling to their quest for power; there is no place for remorse or guilt. There is also a surfeit of opportunity for the Antisocials’ propensity for damaging things, including people. They may work within the crime structure in grandiose fashion such as in the Godfather films, or they may work against the crime structure. The cop, the gumshoe, the secret agent, the super hero-righteous as they may be, they adhere to many of the basic tenants and standards as your Hannibal Lecter’s and Beverly Sutphin’s:

Illegal operations. Occupations above the law; not subscribing to others' notions of good and evil, right and wrong; making their own laws. Any behavior on his part is acceptable.

It is a philosophy that incorporates every do-gooder from Bond to Zorro.

They are also ideally suited to elicit vocations because the Antisocial Personality has little or no regard for the truth. They lie often and hard-a handy trait to have if one is going in for the kill . . . vocationally speaking. They lie for a variety of reasons and without qualms (again, the only rules that they are required to follow are their own). Beverly Sutphin, though she lies profusely, never denies murdering her victims, of which she is very proud. Instead, she cleverly manipulates the testimonies of the witnesses and, in so doing manipulates the jury. They may lie for self-preservation, as is the case for the devious-as-she-is smoldering Matty Walker (Body Heat), her sights set on being rich and living on a tropical island; or the is-he-or-isn't-he cold-blooded killer Jack Forrester (Jagged Edge), looking to inherit his murdered wife's fortune. They may lie to avoid responsibility or adherence to the rules of others. They may lie for the pleasure of it, pure and simple-to con others or throw them into confusion or in harm's way. In Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal Lecter relishes playing with Clarice by stubbornly refusing to be forthcoming. He will not tell her the truth directly, but instead, when it suits his needs, he communicates with cryptic hints so that he can watch her scramble to find his meaning.

It is a knee-jerk response to their experience of a high degree of paranoia. Those issues of power and control show themselves central to their makeup. Key to their obsession with power (and their fear of losing it) is an obsession with the lack of power. They are constantly on guard and paranoid that their power is being eroded or taken away from them. Anthony Perkins in Psycho personifies this quality (Norman believes his mother wants to control his life). They feel they must continually fight to keep whatever control they have over others. They also fight to get more. When he is away on business, if only for a day, Bugsy Siegel is obsessively calling back to Hollywood and having his men (the older ones, preferably) check up on the activities of his girlfriend, Virginia Hill. Not that it did much good. While he was concerned about her sleeping with other men, Hill manages to steal two million dollars from under his nose.

The need for power in the more traditional Antisocial may be sated in more socially accepted ways. Buddy Ackerman in Swimming with Sharks is a prime example. He is a movie studio executive who has clawed his way to the top, leaving behind a trail of casualties who stood in his way. He has assumed a position where he can (as methodically as a stalker) emotionally pulverize his underlings. Buddy takes a morbid joy in his harassment and terrorization of others. Gordon Gekko is respected and emulated for his blatant greed and manipulation. But poverty and issues of class haunt Gekko. Despite his eloquent (and now legendary) "greed is good" speech, Gekko is motivated not by greed alone, but by a wanton wish to reek havoc and seek revenge on the upper class. He wants the blood of the privileged peers he detests. Bud White-the tough, aggressive cop playing by his rules in L.A. Confidential - has the central dynamics of his character spelled out in the first few scenes. He helps a woman being abused by her husband. He is compelled to save women, even if they are not particularly looking to be saved. Yet we know from his short-fused anger and the aggressiveness of his response he is clearly motivated by much darker reasons.

he manipulation of others is an extended exercise in control and often gives the Antisocial sexual pleasure. Dispatching her first victim gives Beverly Sutphin an aphrodisiac rush. She turns into a wildcat in bed that night. Body Heat, Double Indemnity, Blue Velvet, Basic Instinct, Badlands, Psycho, The Grifters, Dead Calm-all use the acts of their crimes as a form of sexual intensity. Their ability to manipulate-dominance for submission’s sake-is nothing short of a turn-on. In Bonnie and Clyde the sexual high is turned on its ear-while the acts of lawlessness infuses their attraction to one another, Clyde is impotent. The more crimes they commit, the greater the desire for sex (if not the ability) overshadows their lives. His impotence-the writers seem to suggest-is directly related to Clyde's criminal problems. Consumed by self, he can't feel others. It is a brilliant take on the character. Interestingly, near the end of the story, when Clyde sees Bonnie's poem in the newspaper and realizes they have become famous-that he would be remembered-he gets an erection for what we are led to believe is the first time in their relationship. In the 1991 version of Cape Fear, Max Cady (Robert De Niro) plays a game of psychological rape over young Danielle Bowden (a fearless Juliet Lewis). Control, manipulation, and seduction. Playing better than the blood bath of Act Three, this moment ends up being the most memorable moment in the movie.

Since the Antisocial story is a male-dominated arena, quite often this dance of dominance and submission is played out man against man. Homoerotic tension is inevitable. Director Curtis Hanson's smooth stab, Bad Influence, and the dynamically realized L.A. Confidential (as do author Koepp's Bad Influence and Apartment Zero) both present men inexplicably drawn to one another and fighting for dominance, the sexual tension lying barely concealed beneath the skin. This sexual element is prevalent in movies as diverse as the goofy vampire and teenage-objects-of-his-affection horror flick, Fright Night, to the brutal In Cold Blood (in which Dick Hickock and Perry Smith depend upon each other in a way we might expect from lovers). In L.A. Confidential, two cops, Bud White and Officer Ed Exley (Guy Pearce), working for the same good are pitted against each other. Exley works by the book whereas Officer White prefers the gray areas between right and wrong, between just and abusive. The turning point in their relationship occurs over a woman (and a classic femme fatale at that). She (a wondrous Kim Bassinger) is a Veronica Lake look-a-like whore. Knowing that she has been having sex with Bud, Ed Exley barges in on her to accuse and threaten. Before Exley leaves, he plans to have his own way with her. Whether Exley wants sex because he is obsessed with her or the other police officer is a point not lost on the well-paid call girl. Her cold and telling response: "Fucking me and fucking Bud aren't the same thing!" Desperate to concentrate, Exley's anxiously responds: "Stop talking about Bud!"

In Henry's case (Portrait of a Serial Killer), the culmination of his arousal is not ejaculation, but murdering his prospective mate. The actual manipulation can also take the form of torture or sexual perversion. Buffalo Bill (the killer in Silence of the Lambs) keeps his victims in a pit-taunting them as he prances around, using their screams as a background as he dolls himself up in preparation for trying on their skin.

teady relationships are a big problem. Successful relationships involve compromise, a give and take, a respect for the wishes and desires of others, a sharing of emotions. This is something with which an Antisocial has intense difficulty. Janice Maretto, the suspicious sister-in-law in To Die For, lets her feelings be known about her doomed brother's wife: "She's like a China doll. You ever kiss a doll? They don't kiss back." Bugsy Siegel, although married and the father of two young girls, seduces women in elevators and trains-flatly pronouncing that, "it will be one time only.” The grief for Bruce (Batman) Wayne over the loss of his parents and his inability to save them leaves his heart with little room to properly love anyone. Bond (until the P.C. of the 90s) preferred to love em and leave em . . . sometimes love em and leave em and kill em. There are also the Sam Spades of the world who seem to pick their women for the steamer trunks of trouble they drag along behind them. For heroes such as these, their obsessions-saving a dame or saving the world-are their first and only love. But, oddly, it is not the girl or the world they serve. They are not on the scene to rescue the girl for the sake of the girl; nor are they saving the world to make the world a safer place for all. They are there to bring about an order to things that they feel is missing. It is immediate and it is personal. It is always about something in their life they need to put straight. And when this happens-from super spies to super heroes to serial killers-wives and girlfriends fair rather poorly. In truth, poor would be a good prognosis. Most wind up dead, either directly at the hands of their loved one or because of actions caused by them.

Where relationships are concerned, the Antisocial will usually go it alone (Psycho, Cape Fear, Bad Influence, La Femme Nikita, Pacific Heights, A Perfect World, Shadow of a Doubt, Taxi Driver). When the Antisocial does cohabit, it is usually with someone of his or her own ilk. The results are nearly always disastrous, if not fatal (Badlands, Sugarland Express, Bonnie and Clyde, The Grifters, High Sierra). Be it husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend-or a skewered version of male bonding such as in Apartment Zero, Bad Influence, and In Cold Blood-they all end in bloodshed and body counts. Sometimes the relationships are for their own nefarious reasons. They use sex to make them rich-Body Heat’s Matty Walker knocks off her husband for the insurance money. They use sex to get them acquitted-Jagged Edge’s Jack Forrester seduces his defense lawyer. They use sex to get places-To Die For’s Suzanne Stone manipulates sex with a young student-a boy willing to kill for the privilege of a sleepover.

The bottom line always seems to come down to the fact that the Antisocial tends to have an inability to feel emotion. Dr. Chilton describes to Clarice that when Hannibal Lecter was chewing the face off of an attending nurse, "his pulse never got above 85, even when he ate her tongue." To Die For's Suzanne Stone (after killing her husband), instead of grieving, fixes her hair and makeup and goes out to meet the cameras and press. In the cold-blooded killers of such films as Day of the Jackal or Scarface we have come to expect (not to mention pay to see) this behavior. Where it plays more effectively is with the Antisocial that errs on the side of good-the Philip Marlowes, the Sam Spades, and the Bud Whites of the world. The good heart that seems buried and lost in an unhappy past, a heart that may or may not be within reach of saving.

Because of the absence of emotion, Antisocials have great difficulty in articulating their feelings. They are not given over to thoughtful reflection. Push the button and they act. Henry explains why he kills to his friend Otis: "It's you or them." Suzanne Stone explains her determination to succeed in broadcasting: "You're not anybody in America, unless you're on television." For Suzanne it’s that simple. If she doesn’t have the T.V.Q., she doesn’t exist. (“Television Quota” is a term used to indicate how well a celebrity is recognized.)

Perhaps the most inhuman aspect of Antisocials is their lack of demonstrative behavior. They seldom show how they are feeling because they have difficulty feeling anything. They display minimal empathy. Because of this lack of empathy, the Antisocial’s actions must be drastic, their pleasure often violent. They must create sharp experiences that will give them stimulation. They have difficulty feeling at all unless they are in a manic state or a blind rage. They need intensity; subtlety is lost on them. They often complain of boredom and depression. Only ultimate moments are real-thus the need for high levels of aggression. They often self-mutilate their lives in order to feel themselves. Bonnie (Bonnie and Clyde) goes off on a life of crime because she would just as soon die as stay in the uneventful, suffocating life she is living. The “high” of the crimes and the notoriety it brings becomes the all-important fresh air she requires. Not surprisingly, the first major plot point in the story occurs when Clyde's brother Buck (Gene Hackman) starts talking to Clyde about pursuing some form of a domestic life. The prospect of an idyllic life-living as neighbors with the in-laws-makes Bonnie anxious. A family dispute erupts and the seeds of a continuing discord in the Barrow Gang are planted.

The Antisocial has a distinct pattern of irresponsibility that starts in childhood and will continue (with the marked polish of years of practice) into adulthood. As kids, they lie, steal, vandalize, pick fights, and commit cruel acts. They feel no remorse. Whether they are a Mafia hitman, a tough-jaw private eye, or Superman cleaning up Metropolis, they need to be cold blooded about their job or there is a good chance they will fail. When married or parents, Antisocials also tend to be spousal and child abusers. Abuse breeds fear, fear breeds control. In The Grifters, the legacy of mother and son plays out to tragic conclusions. Bud White (L.A. Confidential) finds himself raising a fist in anger to a woman he loves, and the ensuing self-realization that he is nothing less than his father's son terrifies him. Films such as Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, In Cold Blood, Badlands, Bonnie and Clyde, and Blue Velvet all make allusions to childhood traumas that precipitated current affairs.

Antisocials have great difficulty and little interest in articulating feelings. Feelings are abstract. Communication (language) is a series of symbols: abstract thought versus literal thought. Empathy (understanding the feelings of others) is also abstract thought. Bugsy Siegel kills people at the drop of a hat. Yet, for fear of hurting her feelings, he cannot ask for a divorce from a wife he rarely sees or speaks to. In one of the more deadly hilarious moments of To Die For, Suzanne Stone attends the funeral of her husband and puts a boom box on a tombstone and plays a tape of the song, “All By Myself.” Instead of communication, the Antisocial would rather use manipulation to get what he wants. The control one has is much more literal.

he Antisocial Personality may be very literal in his thinking. Little gray area exists. The Antisocial may not say, "You remind me of my mother" (an abstract thought), but rather, "You are my mother" (a concrete thought). An Antisocial may not keep a fading bouquet to remember a lover; he will keep the actual heart. They need something tangible, concrete. When Hannibal Lecter points out to Clarice that he never kept souvenirs, Clarice points out, "No, you ate them." As a child, Bud White (L.A. Confidential) was tied up and left helpless as his father beat his mother to death. Three days passed before anyone found him or his mother's body. As an adult and as a cop, he sees his mother in all women (you are a woman in trouble/you are my mother being murdered). Unable to do anything as a child to change the gruesome fate of his mother, Bud relives the painful guilt and loss. Fanatically, he devotes his life to saving his mother in all women, be it from actual physical harm or from themselves and the more lurid prospects the dreams of Hollywood stardom might offer.

Because of this literal thinking, Antisocials live very much in the present and are unable to relive the past or fully conceive of a future. As might a healthy person, Norman Bates (Psycho) cannot keep his mother alive in his memory. Instead, he must actually keep her mummified corpse in a chair in his house. Take as another example of this literal thinking the thriller, Single White Female, which offers us the roommate from hell in Hedra Carlson (Jennifer Jason Leigh). She is one half of a surviving twin who is willing to kill to be a twin again (you are my roommate/you are my dead sister).

This form of literal thinking can manifest itself in various emblematic ways. Disassociation is common with Antisocials. This occurs when they separate themselves from their actions ("The devil made me do it") by using various defense mechanisms, allowing them to distance themselves from the pain of the traumatic incident. Christopher Gill (the serial killer in No Way to Treat a Lady) actually adopts different costumes and behaviors. In a sense he becomes different people with each dowdy matron that he kills. Bugsy Siegel, after a hard dose of killing, recites a tongue twister he has memorized to help him feel confident about fitting in better with the well bred. Blood on his hands, he recites the mantra to ease the harsh reality of his crimes. Bonnie (of Bonnie and Clyde) writes poems in the third person to purify and elevate her crimes. Her lover, Clyde, doesn’t see things much clearer. He cannot understand why the police are on a manhunt for them. As Clyde sees it, "[they] should be out protecting poor folk, instead of chasing us.”

Dissociative Amnesia is often present. Henry (Portrait of a Serial Killer) is unsure of how he actually killed his mother. Norman Bates holds his mother accountable for his present mess. Likewise, Antisocials often cannot remember evasions of responsibility. Clyde shoots and kills a bank employee: "Why'd he try to kill me? I didn't want to hurt him! I ain't against him." Not only does Clyde delineate between banks and people to rationalize his behavior, but he also clearly refers to the victim in the present tense (shot through the head, he is most certainly dead). Suzanne Stone (To Die For) sees her murder dilemma in a very matter of fact way. She is willing to believe (if only others will) that she had nothing to do with convincing a love-lost student to commit the murder of her husband. Period.

Life is as they say it is.

Another prevalent Antisocial device is Projection. They project their internal pain onto others. Henry (Portrait of a Serial Killer) must kill every woman he meets because all women are whores and all whores are his mother (his mother brutalized and humiliated him as a child). Bud White (L.A. Confidential) saves all women because he could not save the one he loved the most (his mother). Bruce Wayne (Batman) wipes out crime and scum because he was helpless to do so as a child and his parents paid the ultimate price. Batman-perchance the Pure Antisocial-the greatest of all dark heroes, lives in the haunted shadows of his parent’s murder.

Another key to Antisocial behavior is Acting Out. The Antisocial Personality has very limited (if any) impulse control. This is the inability to harness or communicate their feelings. They are geared toward action (preferably immediate) to do something before the rage dissipates. They act out as the impulse hits them and they act out in the most literal way-the only way available to them. Harsh, irrevocable blows. The Antisocial has little capacity for caution. There is little ability to plumb an emotion and examine its roots, to weigh the pros and cons. There is little ability to project the future consequences of their actions in the present. The Antisocial is unable to deal with a levelheaded sense of tension. There is no analysis, only the immediate fit of destructive rage to serve as a release. Bugsy Siegel flies off the handle (even toward those he admires) when referred to as "Bugsy.” It is a name he detests. Henry, when confronted with the amorous advances of Otis's sister, Becky, must go out and look for an anonymous victim in order to prevent himself from killing her. Beverly Sutphin, unable to foresee the consequences of her actions, decides against trying to reason with Mrs. Jensen about inconsiderately not rewinding her videotapes. Instead she opts to cold cock her with a leg of lamb. There is no slow boil. The heated response is intense and sudden.

Antisocials often employ Primitive Envy - a wish to destroy that which one most desires. "Each man kills the thing he loves," as Oscar Wilde so eloquently put it. Being human, they are not beyond wanting a little love and affection. Unfortunately, this object of affection then becomes a target precisely because of this affection. The Antisocial, not unlike the rest of us, can't help succumbing to tender passions, but they are driven to devalue, to deprecate, to destroy all that reminds them of tenderness. Perry Smith and Dick Hickock (In Cold Blood) annihilate a happy family merely because they are so-a family. In fact as in fiction, the Antisocial may also eat those that he is attracted to as a way of keeping them with him. His literal mind is often unable to otherwise understand his emotional need (as with real life killer, Jeffrey Dahlmer). If the one they truly love is their own being, this can at times lead to a desire to be killed. Their actions and the path of destruction then become focused on this desire. Unable to commit the act themselves, they will search for and put themselves in positions where their deepest wish might come true. Bad Influence, Blue Steel, Jagged Edge, A Perfect World, Psycho, Taxi Driver-all portray characters in varying degrees reaching out for this apocalypse. Many of these films incorporate a scene in which the character either challenges or flat out asks another character to kill them.

If the environment of the Antisocial changes, the threat of loss of control causes the Antisocial to aggress, to channel their hostility into actions against others. If you want to reveal the psychopathia of your character, you should put the character into a stressful situation. If you corner a cobra, the wait is brief before you are seeing its true nature.

A sure situation that would cause stress would be to present the Antisocial with a situation where insightful, reflective thought is required. This occurs in Silence of the Lambs when Clarice challenges Hannibal Lecter by asking him if he is "strong enough to point that high-powered perception at” himself. Such self-reflection and questioning of motives and methodology would be nothing short of unthinkable. He becomes enraged and tells Clarice that the last person who tried to test him was a census taker and that he “ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti." He will become enraged because he is confronted with a situation in which he has no control. Antisocials build self-esteem through aggression, and when challenged they need to replenish. This sudden, inappropriate rage, if placed early in a script, may provide clues to the other characters that all is not right. Early on in Body Heat, Matty Walker sits with Ned Racine in a bar that she frequents while her husband is out of town. In an instant, she turns and slaps Racine on the side of the face. She then storms out, leaving him with a smarting cheek. Though she is planning on having sex with him later that night, she wants to keep up the image with the local bar patrons that nothing will come of the two of them. Her degree of cleverness-her manipulation of the scene-should have been a fair warning to poor Racine.

ou may not choose to explore much of a character’s past, but it is essential to your knowledge of the character in the present that his behavior is well entrenched and second nature by the time he is an adult. Knowing the irresponsible pattern of your character's early years will dictate his behavior as an adult. It can also offer insight into other possible behavior that can only enrich your characterization. This behavior is not new behavior. Antisocials are very comfortable with their crimes.

How do Antisocials become Antisocials?
The formation of the Antisocial Personality is almost always a product of the damage they sustained during their formative years. This backstory may or may not be revealed, but a template to understand how the character authentically behaves is useful. Hannibal Lecter's childhood is never discussed; we meet him as a fully blown monster. But there is an undeniable sense of past. A good deal of credit can go to a brilliant performance, but there is astonishing writing as well.

Often the childhood trauma is explored. In the case of Henry (Portrait of a Serial Killer), it happens when he describes his mother's abuse to Otis's sister, Becky. They bond as a result of this bearing of the soul. Structurally for writers, the early trauma is often used as a third act plot point. In Psycho, Norman's abusive, controlling mother is revealed to be a dusty corpse preserved in a rocking chair. The murderous creature is Norman himself, projecting the damage that was planted within him at a very young age. Trauma can be conveyed in many textures-depression, a flat affect, developmental delays, fixations, fits of rage, disassociation.

The childhood of an Antisocial is often filled with insecurity and chaos. Harsh discipline and lack of empathy is a predominant feature. Mrs. Bates was certainly hard on poor Norman, accusing him of motives that he did not have and punishing him for crimes that existed only in her imagination. She accused him of the dirty crime of sexual intercourse. There was a transference of her guilt at having incestuous unclean thoughts and jealousy that her son would take another lover-even if the sexual relationship was never consummated. The result of this damaged Norman so deeply that the only way he could penetrate a woman was with a butcher knife.

The early life of the Antisocial is colored with family discord, fracturing, and a generous exchange of abuse. Divorce, dissolution of the family, and general instability are prevalent. The crooks of Sugarland Express, Cape Fear, GoodFellas, In Cold Blood, La Femme Nikita, Miami Blues, Pulp Fiction, A Perfect World, and Thieves Like Us all have juvenile delinquent histories. In many of these cases the stories pick up as they are being released from prison, either by the government or via their own creative arrangements-they fly the coop. Once back in the real world, it doesn't take long for things to start to go haywire. This is a very important characteristic. It is very difficult for the Antisocial to function in society without getting into some form of trouble. Of all the personalities, this is one of the most difficult to treat. The prognosis for change or recovery is very slim and hope is fleeting. Therapy works about as well as incarceration, meaning poor at best. Unless it is court ordered, most therapists will say that they rarely see an Antisocial Personality. They are as uncommitted as they are unresponsive to the psychoanalytical process.

Mothers of Antisocials often tend to be exploitative, masochistic, and depressed. The fathers are inconsistent, alcohol and substance abusers, and lean toward the sadistic. These descriptions are statistical, the parental figures interchangeable. It was Henry's mother who was sadistic, whereas Mrs. Bates remained true to form and exploitative. What is always evident is an absence of loving or an adequately protective family. There is no sense of power or control during their formative years. They internalize the chaos of their environment. This leads them to create relationships in their adult lives in which their control is omnipotent. Bud White (L.A. Confidential) falls for the Veronica Lake look-a-like not for her beauty or the woman behind that beauty, but for what he perceives as her lost-and-in-need-of-salvation standing.

As with their behavior, the emotional response patterns if Antisocials also begin in childhood and are carried with them into adulthood. As children they experience weakness and vulnerability. They cannot control themselves. In order to overcome these helpless feelings they seek to dominate and control their environment. This is particularly true of children who loose one or both of their parents or an influential sibling at a young age. Often they feel guilty and responsible that they could not change the tide of events. They turn their sense of hostility at their own vulnerability into a sense of power (their feelings of weakness in themselves into victimizing others). This behavior leaves them in control.

Ultimately, when you take away the big knives, the big guns, the body count, and the brutal rough exterior, there is a profound sadness to the Antisocial. In real life as in films, they are lost souls, creatures in need of salvation with no hope of where to look and, more importantly, how to accept. Treatment against the deep scars and damage done to their psyche is a very fragile and fleeting thing. Bugsy Siegel was a smart, clever man-some might say genius-who by some accounts single handily invented Las Vegas. It was an act, a dream-an impassioned desire to save himself and to bring a kind of honor to his life. But it was far too late. The outlaw Bonnie Parker reflects at the height of their drama: "I thought we were going somewhere. Instead we were just going."

SILENCE OF THE LAMBS
Character arcs for the Antisocial may seem a moot point, because they are generally (in movies) one-dimensional killing machines who follow no rules or logic but their own. Character arcs are generally reserved for the hero, the one who vanquishes the Antisocial. The character of Dr. Hannibal Lecter is a glorious exception.

When we first meet the doctor he is standing rigidly and exactly in the center of his well-ordered cell. He is in absolute control of his own little environment. He is well into middle age-the appropriate time for Antisocials to burn out, either through self-destruction or by apprehension. Though he is seemingly at the nadir of his controlling powers, he still uses his extreme intelligence to find the right chink in a personality to gain access and then manipulate that person for his own means. He toys with his fellow inmates: he is able to cause his neighbor, Multiple Migs, to commit suicide simply by talking him into it. One would think that, being in the superlative maximum security facility that contains him, his bargaining power with the authorities would be somewhat stymied. But Dr. Lecter is too good at what he does. He manipulates Clarice ("quid pro quo") into giving tidbits of information about her in exchange for information on the identity of Buffalo Bill. Throughout the game it is never in doubt that Dr. Lecter has the upper hand. The first plot point occurs after Multiple Migs hurls his ejaculation at Clarice. Dr. Lecter cannot tolerate rudeness and agrees to look at the police reports in order to make up for such a breach in etiquette. The parameters of what constitutes rudeness (hurling semen at a woman) and what doesn't (killing and eating his patients) are definitely of his own devising. He decides to join forces with Clarice.

In Act Two, the stakes are raised when Clarice offers Hannibal a deal. In return for his full cooperation in the investigation, he will be transferred to a new cell that has a view and will be granted one week's swimming privileges (under the surveillance of SWAT team). The deal is nonnegotiable and it would certainly appear that Lecter has very little leverage. But he does manage to seize control. Though he cannot bargain for the terms of his internment, he can bargain for glimpses into Clarice's own life and troubled past, placing the onus of accepting the bargain on her for the sake of the life of the abducted daughter of a senator. At his seemingly most powerless, Hannibal is able to gain the upper hand and take complete control. He does this again when bargaining with the senator herself. He is in a straight jacket, bound securely to a furniture dolly, and wearing a muzzle. He is immobile and would seem to be harmless. But with a sadistic instinct as sharp as a scalpel, he is able, with a few words, to get into the senator's most sacred maternal place and emotionally annihilate her.

His second plot point occurs when he is presented with the obstacle, while being transferred, of how to escape. He overcomes it through the inadvertent help of his nemesis, Dr. Chilton, who carelessly leaves a pen within Hannibal's reach. Through the use of the pen to pick open the handcuffs and his facility with removing the flesh from the head of one of his guards and wearing it himself, he is able to escape. Before he does, he gives Clarice the clue that is needed to find the identity of Buffalo Bill.

In Act Three he is free, and we do not see him again until the very end when he contacts Clarice and a bond of respect has formed. He is an Antisocial and he will continue to be an Antisocial, but the rules set up in Act One that govern his psychopathology allow for this relationship to develop. This is a nice arc because it gives the inhuman "Hannibal the Cannibal" a hint of the human. Though he maintains a respect for Clarice, even helps her, and resists any impulse to mutilate her, this is no therapeutic arc. The rules of his pathology were set up early. He neither respects nor helps Clarice because he likes her, or because he has become a better person, but because of his own strict belief system. He cannot tolerate rudeness. He only takes the side of Clarice and thus is allowed to form a respectful relationship, because first Multiple Migs and then Dr. Chilton treat her disrespectfully. He takes her side because he takes the side against his enemies. His arc allows Clarice and us an opportunity to know Lecter. Such knowledge leads to our humanization of him, and with that humanization comes a frightening experience at the movies.

QUALITIES AND QUALIFICATIONS THAT DEFINE THE ANTISOCIAL PERSONALITY

They are often drawn to illegal professions.

They tend to be loners; they don't like to be associated with others.

They display a pervasive disregard for and violation of the rights of others.

They have a pattern for performing acts that are grounds for arrest.

They detest rules and regulations.

They proudly show a blatant disregard for societal norms, customs, and laws.

They are natural con men and deceive others constantly for both profit and pleasure.

They tend to lie and use aliases.

They tend to be very heedless and impulsive.

They are very irritable and aggressive, very prone to physical altercations.

They have a pronounced disregard for their own safety and also for that of others.

They are irresponsible; they do not honor their word.

They have difficulty in holding down a job.

They ignore financial obligations.

They are very unemotional; they have blunted affects.

They show a startling lack of remorse.

They tend to rationalize their hurtful treatment of others.

They rely on primitive defenses.

They fail to establish human attachments.

They show increased sensation seeking behavior.

They need sharper or more jolting experiences to feel anything.

They have an inability to articulate emotion.

They act instead of talk.

When they do feel, it's either blind rage or manic exhilaration.

They have a need for omnipotent power and control.

They have an absence of conscience.

They tend to brag about their crimes, but often feel ashamed of their misdemeanors.

They tend to burn out by middle age.

They act out - they don't think. They are slaves to impulse.

They equate normal emotions with weakness.

They have difficulty with abstract thought.

NOTEWORTHY CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ANTISOCIAL PERSONALITY

SPEECH
Charming. Articulate. Persuasive. Manipulative.

PROFESSIONS
Places of power. Politicians, crooks, financiers, gangsters, superheroes, detectives, cops.

DRESS
Flashy. Designer clothes. Dressed for success. The complete opposite can also hold true. They can be disheveled, unkempt, natty, soiled, and thoughtless in choice.

HEALTH
Premature death due to violence is typical. Wounds. Gunshots. Facial and head injuries. Drug and alcohol abuse. Sexual addictions. Sexual abuse as children is very common.

POPULAR CLICHÉS OF THE ANTISOCIAL PERSONALITY
Psycho.
Dimestore Detective.
Serial Killer.
Mass Murderer.
Gumshoe.
Man-With-No-Name.
Gunslinger.
Gun-for-Hire.
Mercenary.
Iconoclast.
Con man.
Avaricious.
Parsimonious.
Greedy.
Self-seeking.
Predatory.

SIMILAR PERSONALITY STYLES OF THE ANTISOCIAL PERSONALITY

THE PARANOID PERSONALITY
THE NARCISSISTIC PERSONALITY
THE BORDERLINE PERSONALITY

VIEWING SUGGESTIONS OF THE ANTISOCIAL PERSONALITY

Apartment Zero (1988) - Thriller, 124, Rated R.
Hart Bochner as Jack Carney, a spooky boarder in Buenos Aries.

Bad Influence (1990) - Thriller/Mystery, 99, Rated R.
L.A Confidential director Curtis Hanson's earlier film shows signs of the enormous talent to come. This is a top notch variation on Hitchcock's, Strangers on a Train. Offers both solid performances and solid examples of antisocial behavior.

Badlands (1973) - Drama/Crime, 95, Rated PG.
On the run, Martin Sheen is the soulless killer, Kit. Sissy Spacek is his delinquent girlfriend.

Basic Instinct (1992) - Thriller/Drama, 127, Rated R.
Sharon Stone as suspected ice-pick murderer Catherine Tramell. A great ride, solid interpretations of behavior-in spite of it's overblown sense of itself. Stone's career making performance aside, the film is not quite up to par with writer Joe Esterhas' early film that explored much of the same terrain, Jagged Edge.

Batman (1989) - Drama/Action, 126, Rated PG-13.
The Cape Crusader himself. Wonderful psychological overtones-albeit, way over.

Big Sleep, The (1946) - Mystery/Crime, 114, No rating.
Perhaps the best of all the antisocial good guys-Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe-with perhaps the best of all actors, Humphrey Bogart.

Black Widow (1986) - Mystery/Crime, 103, Rated R.
Smart women and crime has always been a seller. Theresa Russell (Catherine) dispatches her husbands to their graves.

Blue Velvet (1986) - Mystery, 120, Rated R.
Dennis Hopper as Frank Booth.

Body Heat (1981) - Crime, 113, Rated R.
In her film debut, Kathleen Turner as femme fatale, Matty Walker. Despite owing much to Billy Wilder and Double Indemnity, Lawrence Kasdan's script stands well on its own. First rate acting and directing.

Bonnie and Clyde (1967) - Crime, 111, No rating.
Nominated for an Academy Award for the writing. The antisocial as outlaw. One of the best representations in this form.

Bugsy (1991) - Romance/Drama/Crime, 135, Rated R.
Returning many years after Bonnie and Clyde, Warren Beatty has honed the antisocial monster into something that is nothing short of mesmerizing. James Toback's script was nominated for an Academy Award.

Cape Fear (1962) - Thriller, 105, No rating.
Robert Mitchum as lethal ex-con, Max Cady. Big, bold strokes.

Cape Fear (1991) - Thriller, 128, Rated R.
Robert De Niro replaces Mitchum. This time in color and a lot more blood to soak it up.

Casino (1995) - Drama/Crime, 182, Rated R.
Vegas. The mob. Scorsese. De Niro.

Clockwork Orange, A (1971) - Science Fiction, 137, Rated R.
Stanley Kubrick directed and wrote (and was nominated for both efforts). Worth viewing for futuristic gang member, Alex (Malcom McDowell).

Day of the Jackal, The (1973) - Thriller, 141, Rated PG.
A chilling performance by Edward Fox as The Jackal.

Dead Calm (1989) - Thriller/Horror, 96, Rated R.
Billy Zane as the misunderstood, Hughie Warriner.

Diabolique (1955) - Thriller, 114, No Rating.
French film offering terrific performance from Vera Clouzot and Simone Signoret as the wife and mistress plotting the demise of the man in their life. American remake in 1997 (under the same title) offers an equally clever script. The original, as with most originals, is tough to beat.

Dirty Harry (1971) - Crime, 102, Rated R.
Clint Eastwood in a series (notably the best) of films involving antisocial San Francisco renegade cop, Harry Callahan.

Double Indemnity (1944) - Crime, 106, No rating.
Barbara Stanwyck as Phyllis Dietrichson. The strange pairing of Billy Wilder and Raymond Chandler resulted in a nomination for writing.

Fistful of Dollars, A (1964) - Western, 96, No rating.
Forever noted for giving us the spaghetti western-as well as The Man With No Name and delivering Clint Eastwood into stardom.

Fright Night (1985) - Horror, 105, Rated R.
Glorious fun. Delightful performances from Chris Sarandon (as Jerry the Vampire) and Roddy McDowall (as Peter Vincent).

Godfather, The (1972) - Drama/Crime, 175, Rated R.
The Mafia and Antisocials. Academy Award winner for Screenplay Adaptation.

GoodFellas (1990) - Drama/Crime, 146, Rated R.
The Mafia and Antisocials. Academy Award nominated for the writing.

Grifters, The (1990) - Crime, 113, Rated R.
Wonderfully realized characters and performances from all three Antisocials: John Cusak (Roy Dillon), Angelica Huston (Lily Dillon), and Annette Bening (Myra Langtry). Huston and Bening took Oscar nominations, as did Donald E. Westlake for the writing.

Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1990) - Crime, 90, Rated X.
Brutal and often tough to take. Extremely accurate. Not for the faint of heart.

High Sierra (1941) - Crime, 100, No rating.
Bogart back doing an antisocial with a heart of gold-something he perfected over the years.

In Cold Blood (1967) - Crime/Biography, 134, No rating.
Nominated for an Oscar for the writing (Richard Brooks). Disturbing interpretation about real-life killers, Perry Smith (Robert Blake) and Dick Hickock (Scott Wilson).

Ipcress File, The (1965) - Spy, 108, No rating.
Michael Cain as Harry Palmer, crook turned secret agent.

Jagged Edge (1985) - Thriller/Mystery, 108, Rated R.
A terrific Jeff Bridges as Jack Forrester in one of the most secure and stylish thrillers. Writer Joe Esterhas at his best.

Key Largo (1948) - Crime, 101, No rating.
Edward G. Robinson as gangster, Johnny Rocco, holding people hostages during a Florida storm. Film features one of the great performances of all time-Claire Trevor as moll, Gaye Dawn (she's anything but). No surprise, Ms Trevor carried home the Oscar.

Kiss of Death (1947) - Crime, 98, No rating.
Richard Winmark in an amazing film debut as a psychotic killer. Nominated for Academy Awards for both Winmark's frightful portrayal and for the writing. Both hold up remarkably well today.

L.A. Confidential (1997) - Crime/Drama, 1997, 136, Rated R.
Brilliant portrayal of the antisocial locked inside the good man. Exceptional writing, direction, and performances. Top notch opportunities for antisocial examples in something other than a killer mode.

La Femme Nikita (1990) - Drama/Action, 117, Rated R.
Wonderful telling of an antisocial turned into an assassin. Anne Parillaud as Nikita. Remade in the USA, Point of No Return.

Lethal Weapon (1987) - Crime/Action, 110, Rated R.
Mel Gibson for his now infamous loner cop, Martin Riggs.

Long Goodbye, The (1973) - Crime, 112, Rated R.
Elliott Gould taking on Philip Marlowe in Robert Altman's updating of Raymond Chandler.

M (1931) - Horror/Drama/Crime, 99, No rating.
Peter Lorre in a performance as unnerving today as it was then. A remarkable gamble by an actor.

The Mask of Zorro (1997) - Adventure, 136, Rated PG
Rousing adaptation of a legendary hero that does not shy away from the darker side of the character.

Miami Blues (1990) - Crime, 99, Rated R.
Alec Baldwin turns in a smooth performance as the Antisocial, Fred Frenger.

Miller's Crossing (1990) - Crime, 115, Rated R.
Irish mobsters.

Night of the Hunter, The (1955) - Thriller, 93, No rating.
Very scary performance by Robert Mitchum as psychotic preacher, Harry Powell.

No Way to Treat a Lady (1968) - Mystery/Comedy, 108, No rating.
Rod Steiger as lady-killer, Christopher Gill. For those who prefer their humor very dark.

Pacific Heights (1990) - Thriller, 102, Rated R.
Michael Keaton as Carter Hayes, the tenant from hell.

Pelican Brief, The (1993) - Thriller, 141, Rated PG-13.
Criminal Lawyers. The kind you don't get a degree for in school.

Perfect World, A (1993) - Drama/Crime, 137, Rated PG-13.
Fugitive Kevin Costner (Butch Hayes) chased through Texas by cop Clint Eastwood.

Psycho (1960) - Thriller/Horror, 109, No rating.
Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates. Oscar nominations to Hitchcock and shower victim, Janet Leigh. Still, it's Perkins' show.

Pulp Fiction (1994) - Drama/Crime/Comedy, 154, Rated R.
Insanely great portrayals, all of which are over the top. Took home the Oscar for the writing efforts. Nominated for six others.

Repo Man (1984) - Science Fiction/Comedy, 92, Rated R.
Two wonderful, loony characters, Bud (Harry Dean Stanton) and Otto (Emilio Estevez).

Reservoir Dogs (1992) - Crime/Drama, 99, Rated R.
More group insaneness from writer Tarantino. Be forewarned, contains an extremely violent torture scene.

River Wild, The (1994) - Thriller/Drama/Crime, 108, Rated PG-13.
Kevin Bacon as Wade.

Scarface (1932) - Crime/Biography, 90, No rating.
Paul Muni as mobster, Tony Camonte.

Scarface (1983) - Crime, 170, Rated R.
Updated re-make. Very much refashioned with Al Pacino as Tony Montana.

Serial Mom (1994) - Crime/Comedy, 93, Rated R.
Terrific turn by Kathleen Turner as Beverly Sutphin.

Shadow of a Doubt (1943) - Thriller, 108, No rating.
Joseph Cotton as possible psycho, Uncle Charlie. Nominated for an Oscar for the writing.

Silence of the Lambs, The (1991) - Thriller/Mystery, 118, Rated R.
Anthony Hopkins as Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Academy awards for Hopkins as well as writer Ted Talley.

Single White Female (1992) - Thriller/Drama, 107, Rated R.
Jennifer Jason Leigh as the roommate from hell, Hedra Carlson.

Something Wild (1986) - Drama/Comedy, 113, Rated R.
Ray Liotta's startling performance as Ray Sinclair.

Spy Who Came In from the Cold, The (1965) - Spy, 112, No rating.
Richard Burton as dispirited agent Alec Leamas.

Stepfather, The (1987) - Thriller/Horror, 98, Rated R.
Terry O'Quinn as psycho stepfather.

Strangers on a Train (1951) -Thriller, 101, No rating.
Guy and Bruno (Farley Granger and Robert Walker) set the tone for so many to come.

Sugarland Express, The (1974) - Adventure, 109, Rated PG.
Terrific early Spielberg. With Goldie Hawn and William Atherton as husband and wife on the run.

Swimming with Sharks (1995) - Drama/Comedy, 101, Rated R.
Great performance by Kevin Spacey as movie studio executive, Buddy Ackerman. One of the best love-to-hate performances ever created. Frank Whaley as his assistant, Guy, pushed over the edge.

Taxi Driver (1976) - Drama, 113, Rated R.
Robert De Niro as Travis Bickle.

Thieves Like Us (1974) - Crime, 123, Rated R.
Three fugitives on a crime spree. Overlooked at the time, this is one of director Altman's best.

To Die For (1995) - Black Comedy, 103, Rated R.
Nicole Kidman's not to be missed performance as Suzanne Stone.

True Romance (1993) - Thriller/Romance/Crime, 116, Rated R.
Tarantino back again doing what he has proven he does best.

Unforgiven (1992) - Western, 127, Rated R.
Eight Oscar nominations, including writer David Webb Peoples who delivered one of the best scripts in Clint Eastwood's career.

Wall Street (1987) - Drama, 124, Rated R.
Michael Douglas in his Academy Award winning performance as the "greed is good" monster, Gordon Gekko.