This Real Benefactor May Have Inspired Andrew Cunanan’s Obsession With Gianni Versace

As American Crime Story Season 2 continues its backward trajectory through time, another strange chapter in its subject’s life will be put under the microscope. Andrew Cunanan’s relationship with Norman Blachford is The Asassination Of Gianni Versace’s next focus, in the Feb. 28 episode, titled “Descent.” For those fans wondering what the show would be about now that the entirety of Cunanan’s allleged cross-country killing spree has been depicted, don’t worry: there’s still plenty of tragic material left in Cunanan’s life to examine in the season’s final four episodes. Spoilers ahead.

What was Andrew Cunanan doing before he flew to Minnesota, murdered Jeff Trail, and abducted David Madson? That’s the subject of “Descent,” which presents the show’s version of Cunanan’s time in San Diego, and his relationship with an older, wealthy man, played by Michael Nouri. Viewers have already gotten to know Cunanan’s habit for lying about his extravagant lifestyle; but for a while those lies were true. Per the episode, he lived large off the dime of Norman Blachford, a retired millionaire in his 60s, and enjoyed all the excesses and privilege that he so envied Gianni Versace for. But how accurate is this plot?

According to an article in the San Diego Reader published after the first four murders but before his assassination of Versace, Cunanan met Blachford in Scottsdale, AZ, which is typically filled in the winter with citizens of La Jolla, an affluent San Diego neighborhood. In Maureen Orth’s 1997 Vanity Fair article “The Killer’s Trail” — which would go on to become her 1999 non-fiction book Vulgar Favors, on which Versace is based — she states that Cunanan began accompanying Blachford everywhere under the pretense of being his “decorator.”

Blachford himself was a member of Gamma Mu, an “extremely private fraternity of about 700 very rich, mostly Republican, and often closeted gay men,” as Orth describes. In 1995, Cunanan convinced Blachford to move permanently to La Jolla (citing “allergies he encountered in [Arizona],” according to the Reader), and enjoyed a lavish allowance given to him by his older consort. Orth reported that Blachford gave Cunanan “$2,000 a month, and provided him with a 1996 Infiniti I30T to tool around in.” She added that they traveled to the South of France and Paris in June of 1996 and also to New York City to see shows.

During his time with Blachford, many of the older man’s friends and associates seemed to notice Cunanan’s penchant for spinning elaborate lies — but the young man was charming enough to get away with it. “He was young and attractive, entertaining, good company — what’s not to like?” Orth quoted one acquaintance as saying. But Cunanan was also “sad on two levels: He’s got a lot going for him, I thought. He doesn’t need all this sham. He was also a young man ultimately with no career ambitions in any direction. He pretty much said he was interested in older men for their financial situations. He made no bones about that, and he would say it in front of Norman.”

Eventually not even Blachford’s level of extravagance was enough for Cunanan. The young man moved out of Blachford’s home, complaining to his friend Tom Eads that his patron was “too cheap,” and he was tired of his “nickel-and-diming,” according to Orth’s article. She also reported that Cunanan wanted an even nicer car, to fly first class more often, and to repaint all the rooms in Blachford’s La Jolla home. When he moved out, “Cunanan was astonished that Blachford would let him go,” she wrote.

Ultimately, his separation from Blachford may have been a contributing factor to Cunanan’s subsequent downward spiral. It was after this breakup that Cunanan grew even more obsessed with Jeff Trail, becoming the ex-Navy man’s “constant companion,” according to another article in the San Diego reader published a week after the first.

“I asked Jeff how Andrew was making ends meet after being frozen out by Blachford,” the article quoted Michael Williams, a friend of Trail’s, as remembering. “Jeff said, ‘You know, I think Norman was giving him an allowance for a while, but I know that he’s back to his old profession.’ And I said, ‘Profession? Why? What was his old profession?’ And Jeff said, ‘Oh, well, he sold drugs.’ Cocaine. Crystal meth, ecstasy. And I think that that affected Jeff a lot. I think that if Jeff suspected that, he didn’t want anything to do with it. And there became a huge distance between the two at that point, the end of last year.” Of course, viewers will already know how that strained relationship allegedly ended.

There is one other interesting wrinkle in Cunanan’s story introduced by his relationship with Blachford. According to Orth, the La Jolla house that he convinced Blachford to buy previously belonged to Lincoln Aston, another wealthy elderly friend of Cunanan, who was found bludgeoned to death in his home in 1995 — the same manner of death in which Trail was killed, only this time with a stone obelisk instead of a hammer. Eventually, a young drifter named Kevin Bond pled guilty to the murder, and San Diego police remain “satisfied with his confession,” according to the Reader. But some people have their doubts, including someone who was close to Cunanan.

“I do think it’s a possibility,” Williams told the Reader. “I think it’s very odd that the man was killed in that fashion, and Jeff was killed in that fashion. And Jeff told me Andrew told him he — Andrew — was the one who found [Aston’s] body.” We may never know whether Cunanan had anything to do with this sixth death… but the question itself is yet another reason why Cunanan’s story remains so fascinating 20 years later.

The Bay Area Reporter Online | Gay heroism on & off the ice

We forget from the vantage point of 2018 what 1995 was like. We forget how hard it was to be gay and out. We took our eyes off the Olympics briefly this week to watch the latest episode of “American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace,” and the counterpoint of what Ryan Murphy is doing with this deeply incendiary and political series to the extraordinary presence of Adam Rippon and Johnny Weir at the Olympics. (We haven’t forgotten you, Gus Kenworthy, you just aren’t flaming for us like they are.) Murphy took us back to 1995. To Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. To the simmering violence always just below the surface, waiting to erupt against us.

In 1995, Adam Rippon was six years old. Johnny Weir was 11. Jeff Trail was 28. Gianni Versace was 48. In 1995, no one was imagining an out gay star at the Olympics or even the end to DADT, which itself was a net-positive to what had come before. In 1995, when Andrew Cunanan met his first victim, Jeff Trail, and Gianni Versace came out on the pages of The Advocate, the fight for our rights was still a nascent movement despite a quarter-century since Stonewall, despite the impact of the AIDS pandemic, despite the work we had done collectively to get Bill Clinton elected and how visible David Mixner was.

Murphy, who was just 29 in 1995, does a masterful job of positioning Andrew Cunanan at the epicenter of the fear of coming out for gay men who had survived the AIDS crisis. When Andrew meets naval officer Jeff Trail on his first time in a gay bar, Trail’s just come off saving the life of a fellow sailor who was nearly beaten to death by other sailors. His career in the Navy is threatened, but his own desire to be in the company of other men propels him into that bar and into a relationship with the then-fabulist, soon-to-be serial killer.

There are so many things happening in this series that we expect thesis papers will be written about it in the future. Each scene has its own trajectory, and the non-linear telling of the tale makes it all the more disturbing to watch. The foreshadowing has been removed: we already know the outcome beforehand. Yet that seems to make the impending tragedy in these men’s lives all the more real.

The most chilling juxtaposition for us was between Trail speaking to CBS “48 Hours” reporter Richard Schlesinger about his experience as a gay naval officer, and Versace talking with The Advocate.

The “48 Hours” interview was real. In late 1993 DADT is about to become law, and Trail decides to speak out about his own experience as a gay man in the military. The episode of “ACS: Versace” begins with an out-take from that episode in which a group of Navy men talk about what they would do if a gay sailor were onboard with them. It foreshadows the violent beatings we see later.

In “ACS: Versace,” the back-and-forth between the two scenes (both Trail and Versace were being interviewed in hotel rooms, where no one else would see them) borders on being heavy-handed, yet overcomes that because each new reveal elevates this from easy comparison to heartbreaking reality.

As Trail relates what he’s going to do to Cunanan as they sit in the bar together, Cunanan warns him against doing it. He says Trail is being hidden in silhouette, like a criminal, while the real criminals, the Navy men who are beating fellow sailors within an inch of their lives, are being shown without masking, because the world still views gay men as criminals, and those who would kill them if given the chance as normal. It’s stark, because we know that soon Cunanan will kill Trail.

Prior to doing The Advocate interview, Versace has a conversation with his sister, Donatella. She is horrified that he’s contemplating this option. She reminds him that when designer Perry Ellis, who was then dying of AIDS, did his final show just weeks before his death, he had to be supported by two assistants on the runway. Versace tells her that was Ellis’ greatest show, and she says no one bought his clothes after that. But he explains to her, “I was sick, and I did not die. And I have been asking myself, what have I done to deserve it?” So he’s doing this: he’s coming out. He’s hoping to make a difference.

One of the most heartbreaking elements of “ACS: Versace” is, we love Versace from the outset. He’s a kind and generous man, a caring lover, a great designer, a humble visionary. Even as we know Cunanan will murder him because we’ve seen the killing in the first episode, we hope somehow he will survive.

We feel equally for Trail, who risks everything to save another Navy man’s life and to tell the story of how hard it is to live under DADT. We’re heartbroken for his family that as his sister is giving birth, he is already dead, his body in a rolled-up rug, bludgeoned to death by Cunanan.

The Bay Area Reporter Online | Gay heroism on & off the ice

edgarramirez25: 🇬🇧 Reminder: #ACSVersace will return NEXT WEEK with a brand new episode. Until then, catch up on previous episodes on FXNOW [LINK IN BIO] 🇪🇸 Recordatorio: #ACSVersace volverá la semana que viene con un nuevo episodio. Hasta entonces, ponte al día con episodios previos en FXNOW [LINK IN BIO] 🇧🇷Lembrete: #ACSVersace retornará a semana proxima com um novo episódio. Até então, pegue os episódios anteriores no FXNOW [LINK IN BIO]

*FXNOW link

‘Assassination of Gianni Versace’ fact vs. fiction: What Episode 6 got right

**SPOILERS FOR NEXT WEEK’S EPISODE**

The Assassination of Gianni Versace episode six, “Descent,” takes place one year before Andrew Cunanan (played by Darren Criss) began the killing spree that ended with the murder of the titular designer on July 15, 1997. There are no murders in this chapter, but plenty of tension and suspense, along with the usual blurring of facts.

Here’s what “Descent” got right—and where series writer Tom Rob Smith and director Gwyneth Horder-Payton took creative liberties.

Norman Blachford

The episode opens in 1996 in La Jolla, California. Cunanan is living in a beautiful seaside condo with his wealthy male friend, Norman Blachford (played by Flashdance star Michael Nouri). Cunanan has designed and decorated the home and is paid with room and board, though we soon learn there is more to the arrangement.

The real Blachford was a San Diego businessman who made a fortune producing insulation for cars. He did support the future killer for nearly a year, beginning in 1995, in his La Jolla home. According to a May 1997 report from the San Diego Reader (after Cunanan became wanted by the FBI for the murders of Jeff Trail, David Madson, Lee Miglin and William Reese), Blachford was thought to be in his 60s when he got involved with the 26-year-old Cunanan.

Journalist Maureen Orth, whose 1999 book Vulgar Favors is the basis for the FX show, backs up this account, adding that Blachford afforded Cunanan a $2,000 a month allowance and a 1996 Infiniti I30T—the car we see Criss driving in the opening shot of the episode. Several reports mention that Blachford—and briefly Cunanan—were members of Gamma Mu, then a private fraternity and social club for closeted gay men. The Assassination of Gianni Versace leaves Gamma Mu out of its American Crime Story, perhaps because the fraternity is now openly supportive of its LGBT members.

Whether or not the real Cunanan did design Blachford’s home is unknown. One Gamma Mu member told Orth he assumed “Andrew was hired to be Mr. Blachford’s decorator.”

In the episode, Cunanan leaves Blachford after the older man refuses him lavish gifts, and moves into this own place. In reality, he crashed with a couple he knew, Erik Greenman and Tom Eads, a waiter and restaurant manager in San Diego. It was Eads who told Orth that Cunanan requested a Mercedes 500SL and first-class flights from Blachford. Criss’s Cunanan presents a similar list of demands on the show, with an extra request: to be written into Blachford’s will. There is no evidence of the latter request.

In the episode, Nouri’s Blachford accuses Cunanan of manufacturing their "accidental” meeting. This is based in fact. A 1997 Washington Post profile noted that Cunanan was “a multilingual sophisticate who knew exactly which older men he wanted to meet.” Friends said he would spy on his conquests, gathering intelligence about their interests. Nicole Ramirez-Murray, a columnist for the San Diego Gay and Lesbian Times, said that if an older man was interested in orchids, “Cunanan would go out and buy every book available on orchids and soon he would be talking about the subject as if he had studied it all of his life.”

The birthday party

According to Orth, at Cunanan’s 27th birthday party, hosted at Blachford’s estate, he coerced his friend Jeff Trail (the ex-Navy officer played by Finn Wittrock), into giving him a gift that he had selected; on the show it’s a pair of Ferragamo shoes, though Orth didn’t specify the gift in her 1997 Vanity Fair article.

The real Cunanan also instructed Trail to introduce himself as an instructor at the California Highway Patrol, as a way to impress Blachford. This plays out in the epsiode, with some variation. Cunanan tells Trail to say he’s a Navy officer (this was after Trail had left the Navy) not to impress Blachford, but his new romantic interest, David Madson (murdered in episode four).

Orth does not mention whether or not Madson attended that California birthday party, as happens in the episode. It’s even less likely that Lee Miglin, the real estate tycoon from Chicago and Cunanan’s third victim, showed up, as Mike Farrell does in “Descent.” And though it makes for a very dramatic moment, no picture exists of Cunanan with three of his five victims, as the episode claims.

Cunanan’s friend Lizzy

In the episode, one of the guests at the birthday party is a young woman named Lizzy, who Cunanan calls his “best friend from San Francisco.” The character (played by Masters of Sex’s Annaleigh Ashford), is based on Elizabeth Cotes, who, according to Orth, was Cunanan’s close friend from junior high school. (Viewers may recall meeting her briefly in the first episode; Cunanan brags to her about meeting Versace.)

It’s true that Cunanan was the godfather of Cote’s children. Before he killed himself, a month before his 28th birthday, the real Cote and her children recorded a videotape, pleading with him to end his killing spree. They were prompted to do so by the FBI, but the message never reached Cunanan in time: On July 23, 1997, he put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Andrew DeSilva

“Your name is not Andrew DeSilva, it’s Andrew Cunanan,” accuses Nouri’s Blachford, midway through the episode. “Andrew DeSilva” was the pseudonym Cunanan used in the San Diego LGBT scene. According to Orth’s reporting, the stories he told acquaintances using that name bordered on the absurd. Some made their way into American Crime Story.

At one point on the show, Cunanan tries to tell Blachford he has a Ph.D. According to Orth, the real Cunanan told his friends he had gone to Choate, dropped out of Yale and transferred to Bennington. In fact, he quit after one year at the University of California, San Diego, where he majored in history. (Orth reported that Cunanan spent two years at the college, but a 2001 Time article states he quit after freshman year.)

David Madson’s LA visit

While there’s no evidence that the real Madson visited La Jolla, he did let Cunanan pay for him to visit Los Angeles, as we see in “Descent.” Orth reports that on Easter weekend in 1997—a month before the killing began—Cunanan bought two $395 hotel rooms at the Chateau Marmont, one for himself and Madson, and one for Madson’s San Francisco friends Karen Lapinski and Evan Wallit, who were engaged. Lapinski and Wallit are omitted from the episode. Police said that Cunanan told Lapinski he’d pay for her wedding reception. Cunanan did buy Madson a new suit, as we see on the show.

Reportedly, the real Madson and Cunanan fought that weekend, after Madson refused Cunanan’s romantic advances. American Crime Story turns the advances into a proposal. Who knows if that actually happened, but the real Cunanan did once call Madson “the man I want to marry,” according to friends who spoke to Orth.

Family lies

The tales Cunanan spins about his parents are pulled from the testimonies of acquaintances. Perhaps he never told Madson that his father retired a rich stockbroker to run a pineapple plantation in the Philippines, but according to Time, Cunanan did often say he was the son of wealthy Philippine sugar-plantation owner. (In reality, his father fled to the Philippines after he was accused of embezzling, abandoning his family—more on that in episode eight.)

In that same scene, Cunanan tells Madson his parents gave him the master bedroom growing up. This is reportedly true. Cunanan’s sister Elena said as much to journalist Diane Sawyer in an a 1997 interview on ABC. “He got everything that he needed,” she said. “My dad gave him a sports car. He had the master bedroom. He had his own bath and everything.” (American Crime Story delves deeper into Cunanan’s childhood in future episodes.)

Cunanan also tells Madson he’s in the movie business, another favorite of his lies. Madson’s friend Lapinski reportedly told the F.B.I. that Cunanan once said he was making movie sets with a friend named Duke Miglin (the name of Lee Miglin’s son). The real history of Cunanan’s relationship with Miglin is unknown; the Miglin family continues to insist that there was no prior relationship before Lee was murdered, but American Crime Story implies it began before the episode’s birthday party.

Using and dealing

The episode’s titular moment is Cunanan’s descent into drug use after Madson refuses his proposal. The real Cunanan was a drug user and dealer. According to a 1997 Washington Post profile, he became addicted to Vicodin while selling prescription drugs to his friends. And testimonies from San Diego bartenders who spoke to Orth say that by April 1997—the month he murdered Trail—Cunanan was drinking Merlot "like there was no tomorrow.”

Orth also reported that Cunanan wanted Trail to help him with a cocaine deal, which Trail wanted nothing to do with. She even cited it as the reason Trail left San Diego and moved to Minneapolis. But there is no mention of that in the episode; rather, Trail says he’s leaving because he’s unhappy.

At the height of his drug spiral on the show, Cunanan begs Blachford to let him back into his home, after they have broken up. Blachford says no and calls the police. There is no evidence of that this occurred.

The Versace fitting

The scene where Versace takes Cunanan’s measurements is a drugged-out hallucination (obviously). It’s also actor Édgar Ramírez’s only screentime in this episode.

The idea that Cunanan was jealous of Versace’s glamorous life as a gay man, as Criss’s short speech in the scene suggests, was a popular theory among journalists after the murder. But as a 1997 Post article revealed, investigators never nailed down a precise motivation.

Cunanan’s mother

In the final minutes of "Descent,” Cunanan returns to his childhood home, where we meet his mother, MayAnn Schillaci-Cunanan (played by Joanna Adler). The show presents a woman who is clearly unstable—she sniffs her son while bathing him, declaring he smells wrong, and begins scrubbing him vigorously.

Not much is known about the real women, other than her name and that she was Italian-American. Orth described her as “a devout Catholic, a bright but emotionally fragile woman.” Several online obituaries list her death as April 15, 2012. Time reported that she legally separated from Cunanan’s father, Modesto, after he fled to the Philippines and then lived on welfare and food stamps.

There’s no evidence that Cunanan visited his mother before he took off for Minneapolis, and American Crime Story undoubtedly took liberties with her personality. Drama demands creative license.

‘Assassination of Gianni Versace’ fact vs. fiction: What Episode 6 got right

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Is Subversively Brilliant

Halfway through its run, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” — the second installment of the “American Crime Story” series on FX — is arguably the most important show on television right now. The title suggests that the series will focus on Versace’s murder. Instead, esteemed producer/creator Ryan Murphy uses the assassination as a starting point and framework to showcase the other men that Cunanan killed before Versace and, by doing so, manages to capture the degradation that a generation of gay men had to endure during the intensely homophobic 1990s.

Murphy has already proved his mastery at using a particular episode in recent U.S. history to dissect a culture with “The People v. O.J. Simpson,” the first installment in the “American Crime” series. The show, which garnered a staggering 22 Emmy nominations (and nine wins), searingly contextualized the issues of racism, class, and sexism, which surrounded the Simpson case, all while offering us fresh perspectives on the trial that an entire country tuned into and obsessed over.

With his latest effort, Murphy continues to hold up a mirror to society.

Toward the end of the most recent episode of the series — and warning, there are some spoilers ahead — a lovelorn Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) is arguing with former Navy officer Jeffrey Trail (Finn Wittrock), a man he befriended at a gay bar and who will soon become one of his victims. Trail is despondent and lost. He was forced to give up his career in the armed forces after saving a fellow officer from being beaten to death for being gay. This show of compassion is enough for his fellow officers to label him gay as well and to prevent him from ever being promoted even if, under “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell,” he can no longer be summarily dismissed. He decides to give an interview with CBS News, his outline against a backdrop and his voice altered, and tell his story. The military, he says, is “all he’s ever done, all he’s ever dreamed of doing,” so much so that he dreams “he can take the moment back, and let that man die.”

At Trail’s apartment, Cunanan is perplexed that Trail cannot accept how much the military has wronged him. Trail tells Cunanan he wishes he never walked into the bar and met him. “You’re confused,” Cunanan says, “And you don’t even see it.”

“I see it,” Trail responds. “I feel it. And I hate it.”

Cunanan reaches for Trail’s face: “I’ve always loved you.”

“No one wants your love,” Trail screams, breaking free. We watch as Cunanan takes this in, his eyes filling with the realization that no matter how hard he tries, the world will never grant him the love he’s seeking.

So many traumas are highlighted in this series, first and foremost the suffocating fear that kept so many in the closet, including successful real estate tycoon Lee Miglin, whose wife managed to convince the police to label his murder a “random killing,” to Versace (Edgar Ramirez) himself, who kept his decade-plus relationship with Antonio D’amico (Ricky Martin) a secret. But the indecencies hardly end there. We witness an FBI that seems indifferent to the murder of gay men. Words like “fag” and “queer” are used casually in everyday conversation. Men are gay-bashed, refusing to report their abuse for fear of being fired. The nonexistence of civil rights whatsoever, much less marriage equality. Together these elements contribute to a culture of hostility and fear that makes gay people feel not just like second-class citizens, but less than human.

Palpable in almost every scene is the rage Murphy and writer Tom Rob Smith feel about this history. That the events we’re witnessing happened only some 20-odd years ago seems almost surreal.

I empathize with this rage.

Watching the show has triggered me, as I’m once again confronted with just how much shame and discomfort I was suppressing in my mid-20s. Now, looking back from the relative comfort of 2018, I can see just how much was stolen from us. Popular culture has predominantly chosen to frame the LGBT rights movement as a cheery march of progress toward acceptance. Here, Murphy chooses to remind us, much as he did with his adaptation of “The Normal Heart” for HBO — Larry Kramer’s harrowing play about our government’s silence (and our nation’s indifference) to the AIDS crisis — of just how awful things once were.

What makes the show so brilliant, and subversive, is how Murphy conveys his moral outrage through the sadistic exploits of Cunanan. Here is where Criss is shockingly effective: simultaneously disturbing and charming, arrogant and desperate for love, his Cunanan is a pathological liar, a status seeker, a sad and dangerous human being. But he’s also the one who seems least troubled by his sexuality, someone willing to be open about being gay and to want, even demand, to be loved. By having Cunanan consistently shunned by men who are less comfortable with their sexuality than he is, Murphy seems to suggest that the brutality of the late ‘90s was bound to create a monster like Cunanan — evil, no doubt, but also a byproduct of a society that deliberately refused to allow gay men to self-actualize and live normal lives.

With “The Assassination of Gianni Versace,” Murphy has taken on something more personal, and the effect is both chilling and prescient: He dares us to look and then not look away.

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Is Subversively Brilliant

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’: The Horror News Network Mid-Season Review

Halfway through its intense and diverse season, The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story manages to out-“American horror” American Horror Story and claim the prize as one of the most engaging shows on television. Between its expert storytelling, its incredible actors, and its flawless delivery of social commentary, the series manages to exceed expectations each and every night.

The title, The Assassination of Gianni Versace, can be misleading at first glace. In Season One, we knew The People v. O.J. Simpson would primarily focus on the Simpson trial… and that’s exactly what we got. Assassination tells a much more complex story. Based on Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History by Maureen Orth, the season spends significantly more time on Darren Criss’ serial killer Cunanan and his other victims than the time it dwells on the inner-workings of the Versace clan. That isn’t to say that Edgar Ramirez, Penelope Cruz, and Ricky Martin aren’t completely magnetic on screen- because they’re incredible- but the structure of the storytelling allows for breathing room as the viewer takes in the scope of Cunanan’s actions.

What’s even more impressive is the filmmakers’ tendency to explore the nuances of Cunanan’s victims in favor of constant exploration of Cunanan himself. The last couple of episodes focus entirely on Cunanan’s non-famous victims, and they explore their circumstances with an empathetic and engaging retelling of events. Criss is incredible in his American Psycho-esque delivery of a performance no one is likely ever to forget, but Assassination is careful to always keep in mind that Cunanan is the villain of this story. While we get inside of his head from time to time- not unlike Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer– Cunanan is never glorified or portrayed as anything but a depraved monster. This process allows the audience to truly understand the circumstances of the victims of these senseless crimes and to never root for Cunanan as one might for a fictional “heroic” killer like in Dexter. Showrunner Ryan Murphy and company have an obligation to the victims of this real-life story not to sensationalize a tragic event, and it is clear that they have approached this responsibility with care.

Ryan Murphy’s other series, American Horror Story, struggled to deliver the social commentary it strived to achieve with this fall’s Cult, primarily due to the fact that its often ham-fisted delivery of ideas were completely overshadowed by larger-than-life characters and outrageous plot scenarios. The People v. O.J. Simpson first demonstrated Murphy’s strength in restraint when working with a fixed storyline, and this trend continues with Assassination. Because these characters are based on real people who lived through real events, the series delivers its social commentary naturally, in ways which resonate with the viewer. This show is flat-out scary at times. Criss plays a convincing and terrifying killer, and viewers can’t help but cringe when we know where a certain scene is headed. And because we’re spared the over-the-top cartoon-style gore which always causes American Horror Story to jump the shark each and every season, we’re left with chillingly practical scenes of violence which are far more frightening than anything Cult could cook up. This level of terror carries over into other scenes which heighten the realism of the series’ exploration of the social implications of Cunanan’s crimes. In Episode Five, Versace’s public announcement that he is gay is juxtaposed against another of Cunanan’s victims speaking on camera with his face shadowed out about the horrors of working in the military under the “liberal for it’s time” Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy. Murphy is clearly demonstrating just how deeply privilege and wealth impacted one’s ability to live an open lifestyle, free of physical harm and harassment; and the most horrific scene of the episode culminates in the man forcibly trying to remove a tattoo with a knife to avoid being identified as gay by his superiors. It is scenes like this which truly have the power to inspire debate and engage viewers in serious thought in ways that Murphy’s other works have yet to achieve.

Assassination is not completely without its faults, but its missteps are minor and easy to overlook given its incredible writing, directing, and performances night after night. Because the series is retelling events which no participants survived, the show sometimes goes too far in dramatizing some of its scenes. The results are often well-intended, but unverifiable as to whether such liberties in storytelling are fact or fiction. One such scene reveals Cunanan’s victim finding peace with his father, in his mind, moments before dying. While its clear these decisions were made with the best of intentions, the show might have been able to treat the victims with just as much respect by sticking to the hard facts. Of course, the filmmakers need to develop a coherent storyline, so some liberties had to be taken in order to present the story in the television format. What’s important is that they ultimately deliver a thoughtful and reflective program despite these necessary adjustments.

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story successfully juggles a variety of haunting storylines and ideas in a way that’s sure to please fans of Murphy’s other works and to engage horror fans in a killer’s story in ways that many of its contemporaries could only dream of doing. The show represents modern television at its finest, and viewers are in for a treat if its second half is as incredible as its first!

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’: The Horror News Network Mid-Season Review

Is The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story new tonight, Feb. 21?

Every week, we’re obsessed with The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story. Unfortunately for us all, we don’t get our fix this week. The show, which has been focusing on the previous murders of Andrew Cunanan the last few weeks, is taking some time off.

Maybe that’s for the better. I know in the beginning, I was obsessed with the show and everything it represented. But as the weeks have gone on, it is almost a chore to keep up with. To be fair, that’s not because the show isn’t good.

On the contrary, it is one of the best shows out right now. The problem is that it isn’t what we were promised. I’ve said it before, but I tuned in thinking I was going to get a show about Gianni Versace. Instead, it is the life and crimes of Andrew Cunanan with a side dish of the famous Italian designer.

Penelope Cruz has barely been in the show. But then again, what else is there to tell about Gianni that isn’t already known? We don’t know much about Andrew Cunanan, so it is a little bit of information (or at least one story about) into the man who shot Versace dead on the street.

Still, I wish it was less about Andrew and more about the actual crime. But we’ll have to wait until next week to see what the show is going to do since we don’t have any new episodes on tonight. Maybe then next week, we’ll be ready for a new story.

Is The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story new tonight, Feb. 21?

Darren Criss on Playing Gianni Versace’s Murderer: ‘It Is My Job to Humanize Him’

Darren Criss is making a (TV) murderer.

After years of being known as preppy singer Blaine Anderson on Glee, the actor takes a dark turn in American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace as Andrew Cunanan — the serial killer known for shooting the Italian fashion designer on the steps of his Miami mansion and murdering four other men in 1997.

“I had a friend tell me when I got the part, ‘You’re playing the gay boogeyman,’” Criss, 31, tells PEOPLE in this week’s issue, on newsstands Friday. “I was like, ‘Excuse me?’ He was like, ‘When he was on the run, we would all spook each other [by saying] Andrew Cunanan is going to come get you.’ The things that are said about him in the show aren’t crazy.”

When it came to playing Cunanan, Criss wanted to make sure he was portraying all of the complex aspects of his character, which included everything from killing in cold blood to singing Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” at the top of his lungs in his car.

“Human beings are so complex,” he says. “We are capable of so many different emotions and the reasons behind those emotions. I’m not asking people to empathize or pardon anything that Andrew has done, but I do like people unconsciously figuring out how much they can relate to this person whether how little or how much.”

He adds: “It is my job to humanize him, but the hope is that we’re not glamorizing anything.”

The series, which is based on journalist Maureen Orth’s book Vulgar Favors, starts with Cunanan’s murder of Versace and moves backward through his killing spree. While viewers have now seen how all of Cunanan’s murders went down, Criss promises that scenes of his younger years are soon to come.

“That was some of the most fun stuff for me,” he says. “With someone like Andrew, I don’t think he had homicidal tendencies as a teenager. He was a lovable, fun, smart, gifted kid and it is confusing and heartbreaking and mortifying for people that knew him at that age to think he’d be capable of something like this later.”

Before filming, Criss says he knew just as much as “most people tuning in” about Cunanan — basically only that Versace was shot by a young half-Filipino man like himself.

“I met quite a few people who didn’t even know Gianni Versace was murdered,” Criss says. “What I’m getting to realize is that, for the most part, people didn’t know a whole lot about Andrew.”

Since taking on the role of Cunanan, Criss says people started to come up to him to share their stories about him.

“When he was alive, he literally was everywhere in the sense that he knew people, people knew him and he made himself the life of the party,” Criss says. “Even after he gained this degree of infamy that augmented his persona, people would have stories about him or think they saw him.”

Though the show has been met with its fair share of controversy — the Versace family slammed it as a “work of fiction” in January — Criss says he can understand why.

“I don’t blame anybody for having any reaction to this,” he says. “I mean, that’s their family member on TV. It’s completely understandable. You just hope the work speaks for itself and some good is brought through this.”

For Criss — who announced his engagement to his longtime girlfriend, Mia Swier, on Jan. 19 — the show’s success couldn’t come at a more exciting time.

“Some actors have to wait a lifetime for this kind of stuff,” he says. “This happened exactly when and how I would have liked it to happen in my life.”

He continues: “I just hope I don’t blow it from here!”

Darren Criss on Playing Gianni Versace’s Murderer: ‘It Is My Job to Humanize Him’

Cunanan, Portrait of a Serial Killer: “American Crime Story” Details Real Life Horrors – Bloody Disgusting

On July 15th, 1997, famed fashion designer Gianni Versace was gunned down outside of his opulent Miami home by 27-year-old Andrew Cunanan. Versace’s death swept through the media like a wildfire. I was eleven at the time, and while I didn’t pay attention to the specifics of the case, I remember the incessant news coverage playing out in my periphery. A crazed fan murdering a celebrity? That was a straightforward narrative I was familiar with due to trashy talk shows and scandalous entertainment news programs. Such a simple rationale was all the thought I’d put towards what turns out to be a much deeper and more horrific tale of a sociopathic young man intent on being a “somebody,” even if that person were falsely manufactured of his own corrupt invention. All of those in his life would each fall victim to his destructive nature and pay emotionally, if not, ultimately, with their own blood. His story would become a mirror for the rampant homophobia of the 90s in America and an antecedent for the celebrity-obsessed culture we find ourselves in today. At least, that’s the truth as presented by season 2 of Ryan Murphy Hit #125, better known as “The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story.”

To follow up the massive success of season 1 (“The People vs OJ Simpson”), Murphy along with screenwriter Tom Rob Smith turned to a true crime novel entitled Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History written by Maureen Orth. “The Assassination…” premiered its first episode on January 17th and has already raised the ire of the Versace estate who protest numerous details as presented in the series. They’ve labeled the show as being riddled with fabrications based on vicious gossip. Speaking with EW, Murphy had this to say in the show’s defense:

“[The People vs. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story] was based on a non-fiction book by Jeffrey Toobin. Versace is based on a non-fiction book by Maureen Orth that has been discussed and dissected and vetted for close to 20 years. She worked for Vanity Fair. Maureen Orth is an impeccable reporter and we stand by her reporting. Our show is based on her reporting so, in that way, it is not a work of fiction, it’s a work of non-fiction obviously with docudrama elements. We’re not making a documentary.”

Their main beef concerns whether or not Gianni ever actually came into direct contact with his killer, Andrew Cunanan. Orth who was following the murderer’s trail prior to the death of Versace, claims it’s “on the-record reporting.” The two men existed within similar social circles, that of the gay nightlife and a seedy subset – male escorts. Versace and longtime partner Antonio D’Amico were known to hire third-parties to join them in their bedroom on occasion, and Cunanan had an intense drug habit which was supplemented by often selling his body. No matter what the stone-cold truth may be, Murphy and co are crafting undeniably captivating television by using the sordid details of a star-studded murder case to spin off into alternating moments of emotional pathos, timely social commentary, and suspense-filled horror.

“The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is a bit of a bait and switch. The advertising lured viewers in with the promise of Penelope Cruz as Donatella Versace in a fierce (likely memeable) performance as the grieving sister to Edgar Ramirez’s Gianni. We also got to see a dusted off Ricky Martin proving that he still has what it takes to shake his bon-bon. The down-south neon Miami glitz was placed front and center in what looked to be a stylish, sexy, sensationalized telling of the true story. And, that is basically what the premiere episode delivered. Of course, there was also Darren Criss as the charmingly deceptive dandy, Andrew Cunanan. The brilliance of the show so far is that, after that first episode, each hour has focused more on Cunanan and the months leading up to Gianni’s death. This isn’t the Versace story, it’s the Cunanan story. The narrative weaves in and out of the events immediately following Versace’s death as the cops continuously bungle the investigation, mostly due to ignorance of the homosexual lifestyle they refuse to understand, and the exploits of Cunanan.

On “Glee,” Criss showed a lovable charisma as “the boy next door.” Here, he takes that built-in expectation and flips it on its head. Criss’s Cunanan can walk into a room and captivate an entire crowd as he weaves one unbelievable tale after another. From stories of building sets in Mexico for the upcoming film Titanic to loving recollections of his time spent in the Philippines working at his millionaire father’s pineapple plantation, Andrew has never met an alternative fact he didn’t like. But underneath his pearly white smile lies a soulless snake ready to poison those whose company he’s tired of. It’s a complex character whose murderous inclinations, as of so far, haven’t fully been explained. Nonetheless, it’s Criss’s portrayal that makes it seem believable even if the motivations has yet to crystallize.

One moment we may see Andrew’s jealousy leading to the death of a victim. The next corpse might be due to a sense of betrayal. Cunanan is constantly a threat to those around him, and any moment a potential danger. The highlight so far, though, comes in the third hour when he visits Chicago to spend the weekend with a frequent john, Lee Miglin. Miglin was a real estate tycoon married to an equally savvy businesswoman in her own right, Marilyn (played by an award-worthy Judith Light). The episode begins as she comes home to find the front door ajar, a baked ham left out on the counter, and a deadly silence greeting the calls for her husband. Instinctively, she knows something is wrong. What follows is an intense back and forth as we follow Cunanan greeting the elderly, closeted man for a weekend while Marilyn is out of town, intercut with Marilyn relying on local police and a friendly neighbor to search her home for any sign of her husband. We know at some point they will find his body and we know at some point Andrew will be the one to kill him. It’s a fine display of Hitchcockian suspense that proves this “Crime” story isn’t afraid to go for the “Horror” prevalent in that other Ryan Murphy show.

The climactic moment of brutality is all the more upsetting for the reasoning Andrew provides. He isn’t content just to kill Lee Miglin, he needs to destroy his legacy. An upstanding “pillar of the community” is to be found dead with sex toys and gay porn scattered around his body, skull crushed from a bag of cement and stab wounds all over his chest. In this period of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (also dealt with devastatingly in a later ep) and a general stigma of depravity associated with homosexuals, the idea of being “outed” is more terrifying than death itself. Marilyn copes with the discovery with a sense of denial even if she knows the truth. That truth, she fears would destroy everything she’s built with Lee over the years.

“The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is powerful television that brings to mind the gut punch psycho-thrillers of the 80’s such as Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer and Maniac. Much like those films placed their psychotic villains as central characters in order to reflect the societal temperament of the time, so too does this season’s “American Crime Story.” And, while Ryan Murphy might exist as a polarizing storyteller who often allows excess of style to outweigh his narratives, “The Assassination…” just might be the perfect marriage of his trademarks. Awash in sex and violence but with a greater commentary at play, this is one serial killer thriller you don’t want to miss.

Cunanan, Portrait of a Serial Killer: “American Crime Story” Details Real Life Horrors – Bloody Disgusting

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