Author: acsversace news

Versace: Andrew Cunanan’s Relationship with Norman Blachford

There was a brief time between 1994 and 1996 when Andrew Cunanan was living the gilded life of luxury he had long envisioned for himself. As a man of minimal work ethic, though, the route he took to richness was a shortcut—existing as the paid companion of Norman Blachford, a socialite who made his money in sound-abatement equipment. According to reports, Blachford was not Cunanan’s first sugar daddy. He had a darker distinction—being the last benefactor before Cunanan began the downward trajectory that would conclude with his multi-state murder spree.

As Vanity Fair contributor Maureen Orth reported in Vulgar Favors: the Assassination of Gianni Versace, on which the current season of American Crime Story is based, Cunanan met Blachford in 1994—shortly after Blachford, then 58, lost his partner of over 25 years to AIDS. “Norman was alone and very eligible,” wrote Orth. And Cunanan, well, “Andrew did his homework,” according to a San Diego restauranteur who spoke to Orth for a report that ran in Vanity Fair. “He would investigate older, wealthy gay men who didn’t have families, and he would place himself in those circles. And that was his living.”

“Andrew had his own rise,” explained American Crime Story writer Tom Rob Smith. “He found these various, wealthy older men to live with. He ended up in a multi-million-dollar condo in La Jolla—this beautiful paradise. He was given an allowance and traveling to the South of France. And he throws it all away—he can’t tolerate the notion that he is a kept man.”

Indeed, in Wednesday’s episode, “Descent,” a friend of Blachford’s astutely tells Cunanan, “What a volatile mix you are: too lazy to work and too proud to be kept.”

The irony of Cunanan’s commitment to being kept is that he worked hard to be considered “a jewel in the crown of La Jolla’s closeted society”—according to a source for The Washington Post. The same friend alleged that Cunanan could “hold a conversation on nearly anything—politics, antiques, wines, Elton John. If an older man was interested in orchids, Cunanan would go out and buy every book available on orchids and plants and soon he would be talking about the subject as if he had studied it all of his life.” He ensured that he was cultured—visiting the opera, museums, and society events—and he studied the interests of eligible men as though he was preparing for a test.

Speaking to Vanity Fair, Smith made an important distinction about Cunanan’s motivations.

“I think it’s wrong to think of him as the ‘Talented Mr. Ripley,’ [the cutthroat, scheming character Patricia Highsmith created],” Smith said. “Mr. Ripley is someone who is always hustling and is aware that he’s angling things… . I think Andrew thought he was a husband or a partner in his own right. I don’t think he understood that he was a hustler, otherwise he would’ve been happy with his lot.”

“Descent” provides a snapshot of Cunanan at the moment he should have been satisfied. He had found Blachford, a man who reportedly provided him a monthly allowance of $2,500; a brand-new Infiniti; trips to New York to see Broadway shows; international vacations; access to credit cards; and a front-row seat in his high-society circle. He had been able to convince Blachford to sell his property in Scottsdale, Arizona—as he told his friends, he disliked the climate and allergies he suffered in Arizona—and eventually upgrade the La Jolla home to a handsome property atop Mount Soledad, overlooking the bay. He finally had found the means to live the illusion he had been spinning. In his mind, though, Cunanan deserved more.

According to Orth’s reporting, Cunanan complained to friends about Blachford’s cheapness, and suggested that he was actually doing Blachford a favor by being his companion—alleging that the relationship disqualified him from a (fictional) large family inheritance. Cunanan was restless, and according to a report in New York Magazine, by the time the couple made it to Southampton for a week in the summer of 1996, “Cunanan struck out several nights on his own and popped up at a round of gay house parties, introducing himself as ‘Andrew DeSilva.’ To exacting South Fork playboys, his act was pretty transparent. ‘He was a flaccid conversationalist, and there was nothing really distinctive about him at all,’ says the man who put Cunanan and Blachford up at his house. ‘Every other word from his mouth was about how rich his father had been in La Jolla.’ ”

Blachford was able to look past Cunanan’s obvious tall tales, and see his potential. Blachford encouraged Cunanan to go back to school, but Cunanan would not have it. Cunanan’s ego had inflated to fit his grandiose illusions. When the couple returned from their vacation in 1996, Cunanan threatened to leave Blachford if he did not buy him a $125,000 Mercedes convertible; fly him first-class; raise his allowance; and write him into Blachford’s will. In “Descent,” when Blachford refuses to acquiesce to the demands, Cunanan packs his bags, expecting Blachford to beg him to return. Blachford does not, though. And Cunanan, having miscalculated, finds himself in free fall. Not only is he suddenly without a benefactor, but he is without a lifestyle and a love interest. (Though the American Crime Story episodes paint a hazy timeline, David Madson had pulled away from Cunanan by this point because of his secrecy.)

“Andrew’s descent is that [after the breakup with Blachford] he moves into a small apartment in Hillcrest and descends into crystal meth until he’s lost everything,” explained Smith, who notes that in next week’s episode, viewers will see how Cunanan’s fall from grace mirrors his fathers.

“Whereas his dad flees to Manila and restarts, Andrew has nowhere left to go … [so] he goes to Minneapolis and has a breakdown,” said Smith. “When you look at the shapes of [Cunanan and his father’s] lives, that, to me, was absolutely the key of Andrew. As a child, Andrew absolutely believed his dad’s lies and that he was this amazing man. And then suddenly that was all ripped away [when his father left the family].”

In “Descent,” Smith wrote a brief exchange that cuts through the complex psychological saga of this serial murderer with ice-cold precision. At Cunanan’s 36th birthday party, he is cornered by a skeptical friend of Blachford’s who sees through Cunanan’s duplicitousness. When the friend insults him, Cunanan replies by pointing to the party guests in the next room, saying, “That room is full of people that love me.”

Without hesitation, the friend replies, “Then that room is full of people who don’t know you.” And for a split second, before shifting back into delusion autopilot, even Cunanan seems to agree.

Versace: Andrew Cunanan’s Relationship with Norman Blachford

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Episode 6: A Nothing Man

Episode 6: ‘Descent’

In a poignant moment of this week’s episode, perhaps the most poignant of the series so far, David Madson, the down-to-earth Minneapolis architect who has become the unfortunate object of Andrew Cunanan’s obsessive affection, looks across a lavish room-service dinner into the eyes of the man who one day will kill him.

“We had a great time in San Francisco,” David tells him. “One great night. And maybe there was a chance, but … I get the feeling you don’t have many great nights with people — am I right? So when you do, it feels huge, it feels life-changing.”

It is intended to be a gentle letdown — one that Andrew, of course, can’t or won’t accept. It is also a reminder that this series is about failures of recognition: not only failures to recognize gay lives, worth and dignity, but also failures of self-recognition.

After my last recap, in which I lamented this show’s failure to offer a compelling explanation for Andrew Cunanan’s homicidal rampage, some readers faulted me for seeking a motivation, much less redemption, where none can be found. One reader, Toni from Maine, argues:

Obviously, Cunanan hated the wealthy old men he serviced as a gigolo and hated the younger men he desired who didn’t want him and, feeling time slip away, started retaliating against life by murdering those he resented, which he found to be a drug more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced. Eventually, he murders Versace, the genius artist, who he’s more jealous of than anyone.

Obviously, Cunanan hated the wealthy old men he serviced as a gigolo and hated the younger men he desired who didn’t want him and, feeling time slip away, started retaliating against life by murdering those he resented, which he found to be a drug more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced. Eventually, he murders Versace, the genius artist, who he’s more jealous of than anyone.

That succinct hypothesis is very much supported by this episode (brava, Toni!), in which Cunanan’s dismal career as a rent boy, his failure to attract men his own age and his jealous rage are examined in considerable detail. I’ve come to accept that origin-of-evil questions are outside the scope of “American Crime Story.” But that acceptance doesn’t make this unrelenting portrait of pathology any easier to absorb.

The episode begins in 1996 — a year before the murders — at the spacious San Diego villa of Norman Blachford, a sixtysomething businessman who, after losing a partner to AIDS, became Andrew’s sugar daddy. In exchange for free housing, a luxury car and a monthly housing allowance, Andrew gives Norman advice on acquiring art and antiquities, and occasional sex.

Norman also throws Andrew a birthday party, to which Andrew invites the object of his infatuation, David. To impress him, Andrew asks his friend Jeff to impersonate the naval officer he used to be and to present Andrew with a gift of Ferragamo shoes — as a sign, Andrew says, that he is loved. (Jeff agrees, grudgingly, to present the gift but not to dress up.) The stunt backfires: Jeff and David take an immediate interest in each other, but not so much in Andrew. And we know from a previous episode that they will end up getting together, which Andrew discovers before killing them both.

Andrew’s pathologies are apparent to anyone who bothers to look. Norman’s protective friend Gallo spots Andrew snorting drugs and confronts him. “You think Norman’s the lucky one, don’t you?” he says. “But you’re wrong: You’re the lucky one.” Andrew is only able to parade himself around like an equal because Norman, who has built an immensely successful company from scratch, is generous enough to want Andrew to feel that way.

When Andrew insists that he is Norman’s equal and then tries to storm off, Gallo delivers the bons mots that will prove to be an unfortunate understatement: “What a volatile mix you are: too lazy to work and too proud to be kept.”

That mismatch between Andrew’s laziness and ambition comes to the forefront when he presents Norman with an ultimatum: He demands a higher living allowance; first-class flights; a Mercedes-Benz XL600; and a place in Norman’s will, as his sole heir. Norman refuses. He has performed some “due diligence,” he says, and has learned that Andrew is not Andrew DeSilva, Ph.D., the estranged son of New York millionaires, but Andrew Cunanan, college dropout, who was recently working at a Thrifty drugstore for $6.16 an hour and living in a cramped condo with his mother, MaryAnn.

It is an extraordinary scene. Confronted with the truth, Andrew remains in denial. When it becomes clear Norman won’t relent, Andrew grabs a patio chair and smashes a glass tabletop with it — a mere hint at the serious violence to come.

Andrew’s aggression also extends toward Jeff, whom he suspects of trying to steal away David, particularly after Jeff says that he is leaving San Diego to move to Minneapolis, where David lives. Ever in denial, Andrew persuades David to fly to Los Angeles, where Andrew has reserved a room at a five-star hotel and buys David an expensive suit. Andrew can’t stop lying — asked what he does for a living, he suggests that he is financing a major movie — and the dinner culminates in excruciating fashion with Andrew declaring, “David Madson, you are the only one I have ever really truly loved.”

David, the industrious son of a Wisconsin hardware-store owner, gives Andrew what amounts to a final chance, asking simply for the truth. Andrew still can’t stop his prevarications. He says his father was a stockbroker at Merrill Lynch who later returned to the Philippines “to run vast pineapple plantations”; that his mother oversaw a literary publishing house until she retired; and that his parents adored him so much that they lavished little Andrew with the master bedroom, a credit card and an occasional lobster when the school lunch wasn’t good enough.

Andrew seems unaware that high-achieving people from modest backgrounds tend not to be impressed by tales of pampered childhoods.

In the remainder of the episode, we learn more about Andrew’s drugs and dreams. (Maureen Orth’s book “Vulgar Favors,” upon which the series is based, says that Andrew was a drug dealer, not just a drug user.)

In one bizarre scene, Andrew dreams that he has walked into a Versace boutique and is being measured for a suit by the designer himself. His self-indulgent lament:

What could be more generous than spending everything on other people and being left with nothing? What could be more generous than finding soul mates for other people and then ending up alone? People have taken from me, and taken from me, and taken and taken from me. Now I’m spent. And they say this man has nothing left to give. And a man with nothing to give is a nothing man.

The fantasy Versace replies, more than a tad sardonically, “That is very poetic, sir.” Andrew tells him: “This world has wasted me. It has wasted me while it has turned you, Mr. Versace, into a star.”

Andrew adds: “We’re the same. The only difference is you got lucky.”

Consumed by self-pity, delusion and addiction, Andrew hits bottom. He returns to Norman’s mansion, desperate for money; Norman threatens to call the police. Finally Andrew goes home — to his mother’s dingy apartment.

MaryAnn seems, if such a thing is possible, even more deluded than her son. She believes he has been traveling with Versace to Tokyo, Sydney, Moscow and Milan. She gives him a bath.

Although we don’t know much of her story yet, she appears simple-minded and emotionally fragile, and her hold on Andrew nonexistent. Telling her that the next stop in his glamorous life is Minneapolis, Andrew drives off to begin his murderous spree. She will never see him again.

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Episode 6: A Nothing Man

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Recap: What Caused Andrew’s Descent Into Madness?

The sixth episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, is titled “Descent,” and that’s very appropriate. We’ve already seen Andrew Cunanan’s murder spree where he killed five people. But now it’s time to go back even earlier to see the tipping point, the thing that pushed him into madness.

However, it’s not just one thing. This episode is filled, from start to finish, with potential reasons for why Andrew became a serial killer, from financial ruin to drug addiction to romantic jealousy to a mother who is more Norma Bates than June Cleaver.

Andrew’s Birthday Party

This episode starts in 1996 when Andrew is living in a lavish home owned by Norman, Andrew’s interior decorating “client.”. It’s one year before the murders and Andrew is celebrating his birthday, though it’s all one big attempt to woo David Madson.

Andrew is head-over-heels in love, romanticizing David as someone he could spend the rest of his life with. But he admits to his gal pal Lizzie that he’s pretending to be someone who he hopes David will love. He even gives Jeff an expensive present to give to him in front of David so that David will think Andrew’s friends love him.

The whole thing is obviously a crazy and terrible plan. Very few successful relationships are built on a foundation of deceit. Andrew reeks of desperation when David arrives and he seems to get a bit jealous when David and Jeff meet as they have an easy, flirtatious chemistry.

Andrew’s descent begins quickly, snorting cocaine to take the edge off and being confronted by Norman’s friend who sees Andrew for what he really is, a con man who uses people to get what he wants without working for it. Things get more chaotic for Andrew because Lee Miglin is also there, desperate to talk to him.

Lizzie takes a photo of Andrew with Norman, Lee, David and Jeff as Andrew says that he’s with all of the people he loves. That’s a tad heavy-handed, considering the fact that he’s going to murder three of them in the next year.

Andrew vs. Norman

After the party, Andrew has a list of demands for Norman if he’s to continue living with him, including being written into his will. Norman isn’t OK with this and reveals that he has investigated Andrew and knows that all of his fanciful stories about having millionaire parents are lies. Norma knows that Andrew was working in a thrift store two years ago, living with his mom in a condo.

Norman is willing to help Andrew by paying for him to go back to school and sharing his life with him, but Andrew is too proud. He doesn’t want to work for anything. Even after being confronted with the truth, Andrew still can’t help himself from lying and demanding that Norman give him what he wants. Norman refuses and Andrew has a hissyfit, throwing a chair through a glass table and leaving.

Andrew goes back to his crappy apartment. Jeff visits him, upset because his dad just received the infamous postcard. Jeff is very upset and also reveals that he’s moving to Minneapolis for a job. Andrew gets mad because he thinks Jeff is trying to steal David from him, but Jeff is simply tired of being unhappy.

Andrew and David’s Weekend Getaway

Desperate to win over David, Andrew calls him and invites him to Los Angeles for a weekend getaway in a five-star hotel. This is yet another story we’ve already heard about over the past few episodes, where Andrew spends a ridiculous amount of money to trick David into thinking that he’s rich and sophisticated.

David is impressed, but he explains to Andrew that he’s not the one for him. Andrew doesn’t accept this, insisting that they are meant to be together and David is the only person he truly loves. David explains that they had one fun night in San Francisco, but Andrew is making more out of it than it really was.

David tries to give Andrew one last chance to see if they can work as a couple, asking him for the truth about his parents. Andrew continues his wild lies about his rich, successful, loving parents, and it seems like David is starting to realize that none of this is true.

The Descent

After David leaves, Andrew goes to a gay bar and talks to a drug dealer, asking for something stronger than what he normally gets. This is the true descent. Andrew injects himself with crystal meth and goes into a hallucinatory dream where he meets Gianni Versace.

In his dream, Versace fits him for a suit while Andrew waxes poetic about how he’s so generous, giving everything to everyone, and he is left with nothing. Andrew turns into a total psycho, claiming that Versace thinks he’s better than him, insisting that they are the same and the only difference is that Versace got lucky. It’s clear from this dream sequence that Andrew is resentful and jealous, fixating on the fact that Versace is loved while he is not.

Andrew’s drug addiction quickly spirals out of control. Desperate for more money to buy more drugs, he goes to Norman’s home, but he’s locked out. Andrew begs to be let in, but Norman refuses.

With nowhere to go, Andrew visits a crappy condo and meets his mother. She’s exactly who Norman said she was and nothing like the literary publisher Andrew has claimed she is. She’s happy to see him and seems to be just as delusional as he is, believing that her son is a fancy, jet-setting success. She gives her adult son a bath, which is evidence that Andrew may have always been destined to be a serial killer because this is some real Norman Bates-level creepiness.

Andrew tries to tell her that he’s unhappy, but she’s off in her own world, complaining about all the big shots who look down on her, but now she can look down on them because her son travels the world with Versace, designing costumes for the opera. I see we’ve reached the point of the series where the show blames the awful mother for Andrew being the way that he is.

This episode certainly had a lot of triggers for Andrew: Norman kicking him out, David rejecting him, the paranoia over Jeff trying to steal David from him, spending way too much money, becoming more addicted to drugs and the way he was raised by his mother. Instead of giving one explanation, the show decides to throw a dozen reasons for Andrew’s descent into becoming a serial killer, and I guess you can decide which one you think is the primary reason.

What do you think was the biggest cause for Andrew’s descent?

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Recap: What Caused Andrew’s Descent Into Madness?

American Crime Story: Assassination of Gianni Versace fans baffled for VERY bizarre reason

The FX series is based on the harrowing real life events that saw the Italian clothing designer shot dead by sociopath Andrew Cunanan.

The 28-year-old serial killer murdered at least five people during a three month period in 1997, with the first episode depicting the exact moment he killed Gianni on the doorstep of his own home.

The series, written by American Horror Story’s Ryan Murphy, gripped fans with its intense music and actor Darren Criss’ gripping portrayal of Andrew.

Yet it was Penelope Cruz’s portrayal of Gianni’s sister Donatella Versace that left fans struggling to keep up with the storyline.

Taking to Twitter, one person said: “I honestly can’t understand what Donatella is saying, is it just me? #ACSVersace.”

Another wrote: “Why has Donatella got a Spanish accent, I mean I know why, but why? #ACSVersace.”

“Is it me or does Penelope’s accent sound a bit off #ACSVersace,” a third agreed.

While a fourth queried: “Were there no Italian actresses available? #ACSVersace #AmericanCrimeStory #Versace.”

Confused with the show, more viewers complained about other accents in the series.

“I love Edgar Ramirez but his accent really doesn’t sound Italian lmao #ACSVersace,” one fan said.

Other viewers were left in awe at the first part of the drama, convinced that Darren and Penelope’s acting would win them numerous the television awards.

“@tomrobsmith really loved the first episode. superb cast. Penelope totally owning that part. congratulations! #ACSVersace,” one person praised.

Another shared: “I’m sure Donatella doesn’t have a Spanish accent. Good drama though.

The episode ended after 50 minutes, which was incredibly unusual for the Broadcasting Channel.

Some fans were disappointed that they had to wait a whole week for the next episode, as one wrote: “Can’t believe I have to wait until WEDNESDAY for another episode, why BBC, why??”

American Crime Story: Assassination of Gianni Versace fans baffled for VERY bizarre reason

REVIEW: American Crime Story: The Assassination of of Gianni Versace is Bold and brazen

The second series of American Crime Story couldn’t be more different from the first, and considering the overwhelming success that was The People v O.J, a change in tone and direction is a bold move for the historical drama. However, as the subject matter is entirely different, a new tone is more than warranted here. The Assassination of Gianni Versace is bright, bold and much more reminiscent of previous Ryan Murphy series than The People v O.J ever was, but a compelling script courtesy of London Spy’s Tom Rob Smith — and a remarkable leading performance from Darren Criss — keeps the show from going off-track. The first episode is bold, much like the iconic fashion designer himself, and Murphy does a great job with the direction. Colours pop and tensions mount, and operatic music adds to the intensity of the show, making it a nail-biting opener. Yes, the introduction to the world of Versace is nothing short of magnificent, setting the scene and introducing us to the famous fashion designer himself (Edgar Ramirez) as well as the man who would eventually become his killer, Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss).  

While the O.J series was a social commentary on racial politics at the time of the iconic murder trial, Versace is a tale about homophobia during the ’90s. The bustling streets and crowded parties cannot make up for the feeling of loneliness that comes with being gay during such a time, something that we see very clearly through both of our protagonist’s eyes. 

The Assassination of Gianni Versace has everything it needs to succeed. Fronted by Criss and Ramirez, the show is rounded off with great performances from Penelope Cruz, who’s portrayal of Gianni’s sister Donatella is perfect, and Ricky Martin, who plays Versace’s lover. The major problem with tackling a story of this magnitude is the fact that some of the events leading up to Versace’s death are still a mystery — specifically where Cunanan is concerned. Although it’s worth noting that even though some of the events are fictionalised, Versace never feels contrived. As a result of extensive research (not to mention the use of Maureen Orth’s book Vulgar Favors), Smith and Murphy have constructed a believable tale, dramatising these events as best they can. 

The interesting part of this narrative is that, unlike the O.J series, the killer’s identity is known from the very beginning and, following the murder, the nine-part drama quickly evolves into a whydunit as opposed to a whodunit.  The show may be titled The Assassination of Gianni Versacebut, make no mistake, this harrowing tale of deception and lies is about Andrew Cunanan. In what I would call one of the most unique storytelling method’s seen on television in recent years, Smith tells the story backwards, and subsequent episodes go back to very beginning of Cunanan’s crime spree. According to the show, Cunanan and Versace were acquainted with each other and it was Cunanan’s obsessive personality that eventually led him to killing the renowned designer. Telling the story from Cunanan’s perspective is a seriously bold move, but one that pays off — largely due to Criss’s award-worthy performance. 

Cunanan is the protagonist here and being a social outcast certainly doesn’t help his compulsive personality. Murphy’s shows have always focused on underdogs. From Rachel Berry in Glee, to Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in Feud, each of his protagonists are faced with obstacles that they must overcome in order to succeed in the pursuit of their goal. While Cunanan is seemingly an underdog — or at the very least, an outcast — his goal is something akin to being the centre of attention. Whether lying about his profession or his income, Cunanan is always playing a role while simultaneously making himself out to be more important (or perhaps more relevant) than he actually is. Attention is not only his need, it’s his endgame. He desperately craves it and will stop at nothing to get it, which is perhaps why Murphy named the show after Versace — to deprive Cunanan of that attention. 

Considering he’s best known for playing adorable warbler Blaine Anderson in Murphy’s mega-hit series Glee, Criss’s performance in Versace is astounding. Bearing a striking resemblance to the real-life Cunanan, Criss is mesmerising and incredibly unsettling here and, despite the character’s heinous actions, the actor somehow manages to humanise Cunanan, making him more than just your average one-dimensional serial killer. 

The best thing about Versace is that being unfamiliar with the case actually benefits your viewing. The O.J trial was publicised beyond belief and the outcome was well-known. This time around we know less going in and, as a result, we have no idea what’s coming next. I’m enthralled with the show and while other critics may scold me for having such an opinion, I’m finding that The Assassination of Gianni Versace is a much more accessible tale than The People v. O.J. Like Versace’s designs, the series is stylish, but thankfully, there’s an abundance of substance too.

REVIEW: American Crime Story: The Assassination of of Gianni Versace is Bold and brazen