By admin 
HangupsMusic.com – The year 2002 saw the release of a film, The Rules of Attraction, that arrived with a whimper rather than a bang. Critics were largely unimpressed, and box office returns were negligible. Yet, this unsettling narrative of nihilistic college students, adapted from Bret Easton Ellis’s controversial novel, merits a contemporary reappraisal. At its core lies a performance that, two decades on, remains a compelling testament to an actor’s determined effort to shatter his established persona: James Van Der Beek’s audacious portrayal of Sean Bateman, the ultimate antithesis to his iconic role as Dawson Leery.
The parallels between The Rules of Attraction and another Bret Easton Ellis adaptation, the now-cult classic American Psycho from 2000, are striking and instructive. Both films delve into the disturbed psyche of a young, destructive male protagonist. Both featured a well-known, conventionally attractive leading man—Christian Bale in American Psycho, a former child actor like Van Der Beek—who deliberately chose a role that defied audience expectations, aiming to establish themselves as versatile, bankable stars. And both, upon their initial release, were met with a range of responses from lukewarm indifference to outright hostility, struggling to find an audience ready for their unflinching depiction of moral decay.
For James Van Der Beek, The Rules of Attraction was more than just another acting gig; it was a calculated gamble, a definitive statement intended to redefine his career as Dawson’s Creek concluded its successful run. The actor, who tragically passed away at 48, held a deep conviction in the film’s potential, viewing it as the ideal vehicle for a dramatic pivot away from the earnest, idealistic image of Dawson Leery that had captivated a generation of television viewers.
In the twisted universe of Bret Easton Ellis, Van Der Beek’s character, Sean Bateman, is the younger brother of the infamous serial killer Patrick Bateman, the titular figure of American Psycho. This familial connection is a dark nod to fans of Ellis’s work, subtly reinforced when Sean answers a phone call with a tentative, "Patrick?" The comparison, however, largely ends there. Sean, while not the literal bloodthirsty monster his elder sibling embodies, is nonetheless a deeply troubling figure. He self-identifies as an "emotional vampire," a manipulator who traffics in illicit substances among his collegiate peers, systematically dismantling the emotional defenses of anyone foolish enough to seek closeness. His callous disregard for others culminates in moments of startling violence, including a scene where he physically assaults Jessica Biel’s character. Sean is far too repellent to be considered an antihero; he is, in every conceivable way, the anti-Dawson.
Reflecting on an interview conducted with Van Der Beek the year following The Rules of Attraction‘s premiere, as Dawson’s Creek drew to a close, the actor, then 26, was palpably eager to discuss his cinematic future. The conversation naturally gravitated towards The Rules of Attraction. I had expressed my admiration for his performance, noting the stark contrast it presented to his previous work. Van Der Beek articulated his strategic rationale: "I couldn’t ask people to pay ten bucks to see me do in a movie what they could see me do on TV for free." He bristled at the notion that he was merely attempting to "change his image," insisting, "It was the best unmade script I’d ever seen, and it meant I didn’t have to play the same character I’d been playing for five years."
The screenplay, penned by Roger Avary, who also directed, carried significant pedigree, given his co-writing credit on Quentin Tarantino’s seminal Pulp Fiction. Beyond Avary’s involvement and Van Der Beek’s commitment, the film boasted an impressive ensemble of emerging talent from the early 2000s. Shannyn Sossaman delivered a nuanced performance as a virgin with whom Sean harbors a twisted sense of affection. Jessica Biel portrayed a ruthless cocaine user, whose future, we are informed, involves a surprising transformation into a senator’s wife and mother of four. Ian Somerhalder’s character revels in seducing aggressively closeted men, while Kate Bosworth played a character defined by her naive idiocy. Complementing these younger stars were seasoned actors like Faye Dunaway, Fred Savage, Swoosie Kurtz, and Paul Williams, who provided memorable, scene-stealing turns in minor roles, adding a layer of Tarantino-esque stunt casting that lent the film a certain indie cachet.
Prior to my interview with Van Der Beek, I had encountered a promotional DVD for The Rules of Attraction at the magazine where I worked. My expectations were entirely unformed, largely due to the film’s profoundly disjointed marketing strategy. One trailer, attempting to capitalize on its dark lineage, boldly proclaimed, "From the corrupt minds that brought you Pulp Fiction and American Psycho." While perhaps overly self-aggrandizing, this at least offered a glimpse into the film’s subversive DNA. However, the bulk of the marketing, particularly television advertisements, jarringly presented Rules as a lighthearted teen comedy, aligning it with the era’s popular offerings—a veritable golden age of "fun teen movies" spanning from 1995’s Clueless to 2004’s Mean Girls, encompassing titles such as 10 Things I Hate About You, Bring It On, Can’t Hardly Wait, and She’s All That. This misdirection proved disastrous, setting up audiences for a film vastly different from what was advertised.
I had spent hours observing Van Der Beek during a photoshoot that day, enduring a series of increasingly absurd outfits and poses in the inclement weather of the imposing Bethlehem Steel Mill. Throughout, his demeanor remained remarkably composed and professional—until the topic of The Rules of Attraction‘s marketing campaign arose. "I’ll get in trouble if I start talking about how frustrated I was," he conceded, his mouth tightening noticeably. My deliberate silence invited him to continue, which he did: "The TV spots and trailers were about a totally different movie! I wouldn’t have seen that movie. And I certainly wouldn’t have appeared in it." His palpable anger spoke volumes about the disconnect between the filmmakers’ artistic intent and the studio’s commercial strategy.
One might ponder whether Van Der Beek’s sentiments regarding Rules evolved over the years, for a recent rewatch reveals that the film has, unfortunately, not aged gracefully in certain respects. Two particularly graphic scenes, one depicting sexual assault and another death by suicide, strike as gratuitous and largely extraneous to the narrative, their impact further diminished by being played, disturbingly, for laughs. Furthermore, while a predominantly white New England college town in 2002 might realistically have had limited racial diversity, the film’s portrayal of its few characters of color is deeply problematic. These include a machete-wielding Jamaican henchman, stereotypical football players, and an indifferent nurse of color who famously refuses aid to an overdose victim with the line, "I’m on my break." The film also struggles to translate the peculiar "magical realism" inherent in Ellis’s novels—a world where the grotesque and the absurd often intertwine—as adeptly as American Psycho managed. This often results in characters whose irrational behaviors feel unmotivated and disconnected from any discernible human logic, undermining the intended satire or psychological depth.
Yet, amidst these significant flaws, Van Der Beek’s central performance remains as potent and compelling as it was two decades ago. His ability to convey Sean’s intricate tapestry of pain, pleasure, rage, resignation, and excitement—often simultaneously—is remarkable. Whether delivering Sean’s rather unremarkable catchphrase, "Rock n’ roll," with layers of cynicism and self-loathing, or glowering directly into the camera with a intensity reminiscent of Jack Nicholson in The Shining (both actors possessing heavy brows and prominent foreheads perfectly suited for such menacing gazes), Van Der Beek commands attention. He masterfully navigates Sean’s derisive sneers at the apparent insanity of those around him, all while being the primary architect of their descent into chaos.
For dedicated fans of James Van Der Beek, and indeed for those interested in the darker, more transgressive corners of early 2000s cinema, The Rules of Attraction is undeniably worth a watch. It stands as a flawed, fascinating artifact of an actor’s audacious attempt to break free from the shackles of an iconic role, delivering a performance that, despite its cinematic container, still manages to rock n’ roll.