Tag: 2.08

American Crime Story wants to know what makes a person into a killer

“Creator/Destroyer” B-

After the inertness of last week’s mostly-meandering “Ascent,” this week’s “Creator/Destroyer” is comparatively more interesting and has a clearer focus. And though Assassination is still into shoehorning in parallels between various characters, it works better here (and confined to the cold open) than it did with Donatella. A young Versace, in 1957 Italy, shows an interest in fashion design but is deemed a “pervert” by a teacher and a “pansy” by a classmate. At home, however, he finds encouragement from his mother to pursue his dreams which eventually led to, as we know, him becoming a success. A young Andrew, in 1980 California, is given special treatment (and a master bedroom!) by his father, and he’s explicitly told to always remember he is special because “when you feel special, success will follow.”

These similarities between younger Andrew and Versace—knowing they stand out, having interests that outside the norm of “typical” boyhoods (and being made fun of for it), the parental emphasis on encouragement and success, etc.—are displayed so we can take note of how the two diverged into entirely different paths (and ask why; Assassination has a lot to say about parents!): of how one became a murderer and the other his unfortunate victim. So, yes, some of this is certainly retreading well-worn territory (the season’s biggest problem) but it generally works this time, as “Creator/Destroyer” almost functions as a origin story, pulling us into the depths of Andrew’s adolescence. It’s the episode that paints the most sympathetic portrait of Andrew, but the reverse timeline engineering of the series has—fortunately—ensured that we can’t commit to the sympathy.

What’s also pretty compelling about “Creator/Destroyer” is its depiction of an immigrant’s story—parts of which may feel a little familiar to other children of immigrants, as it did to me—through Andrew’s father, Modesto “Pete” Cunanan. Modesto has that specific patriotism of someone who was born elsewhere (Philippines) and came here with the explicit purpose to make money, make a better life, support his family without stress, and provide his children (or, really, just Andrew) with the sort of life he never had for himself growing up. He served in the Navy, dealing with paltry paychecks just so he could be in the United States. He’s obsessed with success and with looking the part—an obsession that that is partly born from needing to assimilate with the privileged white men he’s surrounded by. There’s a neat juxtaposition of him and Andrew, first side-by-side putting on their suits in a giant mirror and then interviewing: Modesto for a fancy job at Merrill Lynch, Andrew for a spot at the prestigious Bishop school. Both are men who are aiming for much higher than what they have, and both are men who are willing to take the easier, cheating route to get there—which is why it’s no surprise when we learn that Modesto is wanted for embezzlement.

The Assassination Of Gianni Versace hasn’t been shy about its assertion that Andrew wasn’t simply born a murderer—he wasn’t some childhood animal killer who just snapped one day, which is the narrative that is often told around serial/spree killers (though a few experts have said he likely suffered from an antisocial personality disorder)—but that he was sort of created, molded, and shaped into one due to a combination of his upbringing, his family, homophobia (both internalized and otherwise), class, lack of opportunities, desperation, and so on. “Creator/Destroyer” hones in on this view as it relates to his adolescence and family, largely through the lens of Modesto. Modesto pulls the old pretending-I-didn’t-get-the-job sitcom routine but becomes actually pissed off when his wife, Mary Anne, believes it—even basically threatening her with going back to the mental hospital.

Modesto sets up the family as adversaries: Modesto and Andrew vs. Mary Anne (and Andrew’s siblings, who rarely appear); the soon-to-be-successful dreamers vs. the stale realists; the “special” Cunanans vs. the ordinary ones. (And, as we’ve learned through Andrew, there’s not much worse than being ordinary.) Modesto not only uses Mary Anne’s mental illness (depression, and maybe specifically postpartum after Andrew was born) against her by bringing it up as a means to shut her up or scare her into complying, but he also uses it as a way to bring Andrew closer to his side, effectively widening the gap between Andrew and his mother. After Modesto buys a car for Andrew (before he can even drive, and ignoring his older siblings), he basically warns Andrew about his own mother, saying she has “weak mind,” and that Modesto is tasked with making sure Andrew doesn’t end up the same way. He speaks about Mary Anne’s time in the hospital as a time when Modesto was both Andrew’s mother and father, as if wanting to make sure Andrew knows which one to take sides with. Modesto is also, unsurprisingly, abusive to his wife on more than one occasion, and in front of Andrew, which puts Andrew’s later sudden abuse to his mother in a different context: It’s what he saw growing up.

Turns out, Modesto does desperately need someone on his side because it isn’t long after the FBI show up on his front door, forcing Modesto to flee all the way back to the Philippines, leaving his family with nothing—no money, no security, not even the house. “Don’t believe a word they say,” he tells Andrew who takes it to heart enough to also leave the country and track him down. The scene in Manila is the most tense as the two essentially confront each other. It turns out the two were stuck in a cycle that Andrew didn’t know about: Modesto lied and cheated to get money for the family, Andrew bragged about Modesto’s success and needed the money to keep up appearances, Modesto fulfilled Andrew’s demand for money and appearances by lying and cheating, and Andrew would brag and, well, you get it. Andrew’s concerns seem to mostly be about how he’s going to keep on being Andrew—“If you’re a lie, then I’m a lie, and I can’t be a lie. I can’t”—which Modesto quickly seizes, retorting “You’re not upset that I stole. You’re upset because I stopped.”

The conversation quickly grows more contentious, with Modesto calling Andrew a “sissy kid with a sissy mind,” literally spitting on him, and smacking his son. It’s this violence—and Modesto explicitly saying “I’m ashamed of you”—that seems to flick a switch in Andrew, who grabs a knife (almost instinctively) but ends up only cutting into his own palm. It’s interesting to note the difference in how Andrew deals with these insults throughout the episode, depending on where they’re coming from: when a classmate calls him a “fag,” Andrew runs with it (“If being a fag means being different, then sign me up!”) and turns it into an opportunity to demand attention; when his father calls him a “sissy,” Andrew turns cold, quiet, and eyes violence.

The end of “Creator/Destroyer,” which is tasked with setting us up for the final episode, finds Andrew with his tail between his legs and applying for a job at the pharmacy. When he’s asked about his father by a fellow Filipino, Andrew lies to make Modesto seem better than he is—and we know that he hasn’t stopped lying since—which is a little neat. But “Creator/Destroyer” also leaves us in a weird spot: Where does the show go for the season finale? I’m assuming/hoping it’ll jump forward again, bringing us to Andrew’s end, but it seems like one hell of a leap.

Stray observations

  • Hey, it’s Magic Mike’s Matt Bomer’s directorial debut! Pretty solid job, if nothing too special, but he’ll likely expand his on-screen relationship with Ryan Murphy’s shows to behind-the-scenes as well.
  • Variety has an interview with Bomer about the experience that’s a neat read. I didn’t check it out until way after I finished writing this but this point has stuck with me since: “I wanted that to give you the sense that if Andrew could’ve just killed his dad, he wouldn’t have killed anybody else. That was a big part of the dynamic I was trying to create in the story.”
  • Also in this episode: Andrew meeting Lizzie for the first time, learning the name DiSilvia which he’ll later adopt for his own, and that admittedly-fantastic red jumpsuit.
  • That was a pretty drastic jump from
  • Some key songs: “Hazy Shade Of Winter” by The Bangles, “Touch Me (I Want Your Body” by Samantha Fox, and, of course, “Whip It” by Devo.

American Crime Story wants to know what makes a person into a killer

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 8 Recap: A Father’s Faults

All season long, The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story has filled in blanks. Why did Andrew Cunanan (played by Darren Criss) become a spree killer? Why did he kill Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramirez)? Why did he kill David Madson (Cody Fern)? Creator Ryan Murphy and writer Tom Rob Smith have used a blend of what we know and some fiction to weave a compelling narrative — one that gave us a much more challenging series than we first expected.

But The Assassination of Gianni Versace hasn’t contented itself with examining Cunanan as a killer; it’s also fascinated by Andrew the gay man, and all that led to how he became himself. Wednesday’s penultimate episode of the season took that train of thought to its organic conclusion, introducing us to Andrew’s father, Modesto Cunanan (Jon Jon Briones).

Modesto, like his son, is an impressively persuasive fabulist. He talks his way into a high-powered job on a lack of experience and a lot of charm. He moves his family into a neighborhood and home beyond their means, convinced he can build them the American Dream he (an immigrant from the Philippines) so desperately craves.

For a while, it works, just like we’ve seen Andrew’s plans briefly succeed. But soon enough, Modesto is committing major fraud crimes just to keep his American Dream afloat. When it all comes crashing down on him, instead of owning his errors, he flees, leaving his wife and children to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Briones is nothing short of fantastic as Modesto, winning the audience over just as much as he does the people he meets in the show. He’s so damn determined and positive, you can’t help but put faith in his mission. It helps that he’s crazy about Andrew, supporting him and making him feel loved.

Then you see Modesto verbally abuse his wife, and ignore his other kids to fully pin his hopes on Andrew. You see him take the cowardly way out after he’s discovered. And you see him later in life, when Andrew goes to meet him in the Philippines as a teenager, expressing no remorse but plenty of anger. It’s in that moment that you can feel the Andrew Cunanan we know now being formed. His father, perhaps the only man who truly expressed love for Andrew, can’t take responsibility for his crimes, and instead rages out at his son for daring to question him.

Maybe there was no saving Andrew Cunanan, no decision in his life that could have stopped what was coming. Maybe this is all a fable American Crime Story is telling us to feel like our lives are more in our control than they actually are. But in that moment, it feels like Modesto could have stopped what came after by teaching his son a lesson: that pathological lying and deceiving people have consequences. But he didn’t.

There’s a terror in the relatability of Andrew Cunanan’s story. A complicated relationship with his father. A need to feel validated by the world. A thirst for the fabulous things in life. An insecurity with the things we actually have. A desperation to be loved for how we look to the world because we’re too ashamed of who we are. Murphy and Smith’s greatest trick with this season was making a spree killer’s story strike so close to home for gay men.

I’ve not seen the finale of this miniseries — it was the only episode not furnished for critics ahead of the season premiere — but I find myself both eager and nervous to find out how this story ends. Not because I don’t know what happens; the hunt for Cunanan will end, as will Cunanan’s life. There’s no surprise in the straightforward narrative of it, which is perhaps why Murphy and Smith presented Cunanan’s life in reverse, to give viewers the feeling of unwrapping a package versus taking a road trip to an obvious destination.

Despite that lack of suspense, I want to know how this story, in this particular presentation, comes to a close. I want to see the full realization of The Assassination of Gianni Versace’s thesis. I want to feel some measure of closure with Cunanan, to walk away from this miniseries enlightened not just about his motives, but about how he became the man he was.

Judging from everything we’ve seen thus far, the finale should be a devastating experience. But hopefully, it will also be an enlightening one.

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 8 Recap: A Father’s Faults

On ‘American Crime Story’ Andrew’s Filipino Father Gets the American Dream By Any Means Necessary

What makes the Assassination of Gianni Versace a distinctly American story? That’s been the question at the heart of this season’s deep dive into not just the designer’s death at the steps of his South Beach home, but at the life of his killer, Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss). Moving ever backwards in time to fill up his entire biography, this week’s episode gives us an origin story of sorts for who Cunanan is and how his ideas about desire, power, and the American Dream were shaped by the man who raised him. Moreover, by beginning this episode with brief moments of Gianni’s own childhood in Italy, where he first learned his trade at his mother’s hands, the show yet again stresses what Cunanan claims to believe: that there’s little difference between he and Versace. But where the Italian designer’s empire is truly an example of the American Dream, with his humble origins eventually leading him to become a world-renowned designer with an ostentatious estate in Miami, the young Filipino-American’s life reflects instead the underbelly of such American ideals.

“Ask yourself,” Modesto Cunanan, Andrew’s father, tells those interviewing him at Merrill-Lynch, “How many of those Ivy League guys lining up to work here started from nothing?” His pitch to his would-be employers is focused on his own vision of what the United States had offered him. “My life is a tale told in dollars” that brought him from a small home in the Philippines to a suburban house here in America, “the greatest country in the world!” An ambitious man who values those dollars and wants his youngest son (though curiously, not his other children) to have the best of the best, Modesto turns out to be more of a Wolf of Wall Street-type guy – it seems Andrew’s penchant for lying and for valuing status (if not hard work) very much runs in the family.

Complicating all this is the picture-perfect immigrant tale that Modesto always boasted about and which Andrew (as he does towards the end of the episode) weaponizes to his advantage whenever needed. To come into this country as a foreigner often requires the need to overemphasize one’s own Americanness. For Modesto, that didn’t just mean buying a big house and a great car but changing his name (he went by “Pete”) in order to take the focus away from what made him different in the eyes of those who had power, those who had money, those who had privilege. Having moved in to their new house, for example, he goes ahead and plants an American flag in their front yard.

That such thirst for fitting in and making a fortune would also be laced with a dose of toxic masculinity (“You were always weak,” he tells Andrew, outright calling him a sissy boy) as well as perverted sexual proclivities (it’s clear why Modesto gives Andrew the master bedroom and enjoys reading him bedtime stories there) just shows how much went into shaping this shape-shifting serial killer.

“I stole so I could be a father, so I could be an American,” he tells his son in an intense conversation late in the episode when all his lies have been found out and the Cunanans have been left with nothing. “You can’t go to America and start with nothing; that’s the lie. So I stole.” What’s more tragic, both for Andrew and for those who would become his later victims, is that despite raging that he wants to be nothing like his father, that he can’t stand to live in a world of lies, the once disaffected young man makes his way in the world precisely by craving that which his father always told him was rightfully his and trying to achieve it with the very kind of lies that had turned the older Cunanan into a fraud. It’s the kind of tale that, as Ryan Murphy’s title suggests, could only happen in America.

On ‘American Crime Story’ Andrew’s Filipino Father Gets the American Dream By Any Means Necessary

“ACS: The Assassination Of Gianni Versace” Episode 8 Recap: “Creator/Destroyer”

The Assassination Of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story is up to its old tricks. Last week, I fell right into the trap of thinking the killer’s mother, Mary Ann Cunanan (Joanna Adler) was a completely awful wretch, and now this week I feel terrible for her and the cards life dealt her. Stop making me sympathize with creeps, FX! I don’t want to feel!

If you told me Modesto had a coke addiction, I would 1000% believe it because every word that leaves his mouth has the distinct bravado and aggression of someone who’s high. I feared him as soon as he appeared, and even before he grabs his wife by the neck, you can sense he’s been abusive by how skittish and careful she is around him. Modesto also brings up Mary Ann’s mental health four times when she’s being perfectly normal, which is textbook gaslighting or manipulating somebody into questioning their own sanity. It’s popular amongst predators like Modesto.

Something rubbed me the wrong way in the last episode when Cunanan says, “older men have always liked me,” while breaking eye contact a little sadly. And unfortunately, I think it could be in reference to his father abusing him. There are a million little things that are wrong throughout the first scene with the Cunanan family. Why do they call Andrew a prince; why does he still have a teddy bear; why would he get to ride shotgun; and then later, why would his dad kiss his feet? It’s interesting how long I held out hope that Andrew’s father was not sexually abusive, which I think is both a testament to denial and how dark this subject matter truly is.

This was almost like a teaching tool for priming or grooming for abuse, except for the fact that Modesto probably didn’t need to win his son’s trust because he was already his son. Plus, the gifts he gave Andrew were so over the top and flamboyant. Seeing his dad buy him a car years before he could drive makes the things Andrew does later, like buying lobster and insane hotel suites, make a sick kind of sense. I know Cunanan must have been terrified for most of his childhood because the threat of violence seemed omnipresent, but I did also feel like something hardened in him when he rolled up the window on his mom by his own choice.

She’s a good friend and person, and it’s interesting to know that her first impression of the youngest Cunanan was him at his most vulnerable and in need of a friend. Her character gets more filled in, but it felt so rushed! She’s a married, “real grown up” and is yet another case of Cunanan meeting someone when they were feeling a little bored or down (and then probably leveraging it later.)

Cunanan’s father is such a pure, selfish evil. We know he sold nonexistent stocks to a 92-year-old woman, and the fact that he had that much cash ready and a go bag makes me think his crimes must have been serious and plentiful. I was shocked his dad was actually there when he went to find him, but I was not surprised there was no money. I think he stole to get by, and I actually was impressed with how much sympathy I could muster for him after he said, “You can’t go to America and start from nothing, that’s the lie.”

I was still shook that his dad spit in his face, and I lost all sympathy for the washed up criminal when he started calling his son a sissy. Modesto says crying is weak, and that his son is being just like his mom, which solidifies any doubt I had that the mom wasn’t probably actually mentally ill aside from experiencing postpartum depression. This episode ends up feeling kind of confusing because Andrew says he won’t become his father, but we kind of know he does. A moment stuck with me in this episode when Andrew puts his hands over his mom’s mouth with a little too much natural, controlled rage. It seems like the first reason the two of them have had to fight, but it feels like he’d just seen force used so casually in that house so many times that he didn’t think twice.

“ACS: The Assassination Of Gianni Versace” Episode 8 Recap: “Creator/Destroyer”

‘Assassination of Gianni Versace’: Matt Bomer on directing that pivotal origin episode

Tonight’s episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story is notable for giving viewers the origin story of Andrew Cunanan’s childhood and family, particularly his abusive father, Modesto (a terrifying Jon Jon Briones). But it also marks the directorial debut of actor Matt Bomer.

The star, who’s worked with executive producer Ryan Murphy previously on Glee, American Horror Story, and The Normal Heart, talked to EW about being assigned this pivotal hour and his future directing hopes.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: How did this happen? Did you mention this to Ryan?
MATT BOMER: I’d worked with Ryan obviously multiple times before. He knew I always came in with excessive reams of research and homework and overly fastidious preparation. He mentioned to me that I should direct at some point, and I didn’t think much of it at the time. I think he knew I needed to be creatively re-inspired and reinvigorated. He called me in December and said, “Hey, I want you to direct!” I was thinking maybe it will be American Horror Story: Cult. When he said, “I want you to direct on Versace,” I promptly fell out, passed out, and when I regained consciousness I was not sane enough to say no, I said yes. It was really the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.

It was like a four-and-a-half-month process for me. I read over 3,000 pages of books on directing. I did an intensive at the DGA. I shadowed two of the directors on the show and met with every film and episodic director friend of mine I could to just be a sponge. I met with editors. I knew the level of work that was going to be going on, and I wanted to be able to come and really be able to play on that level.

Did you get to pick your episode?
No, I was shadowing and kind of waiting in the wings. There was a time when it was going to be maybe the Miglin episode, and then there was a time it was going to be the episode that aired this week. I’m grateful I got the episode I did. It’s such a psychological episode, and we wanted to do it in a Sidney Lumet-esque style. There are some fancy camera moves in it, but it’s really mostly about these relationships and these character dynamics. And this great central question of what makes one person a creator and one person a killer? The answer being hard work. Andrew is someone who’s been told by his family that he’s special and exceptional, and you’d think he’d be the one to rise and succeed. Gianni is being bullied in school and has a loving mother who says you have to work to make your dreams come true. Her work ethic that she instilled in him, plus his art, is really what created the label of Versace.

You played Darren Criss’ brother on Glee. How was it working with him in this regard?
I knew Darren was a tremendous artist and had lots of stories inside of him. I was lucky enough to be in the front row, eating popcorn, watching this performance from very early on. I was watching this performance really since they got to L.A. From the first frame I saw him, I was like, “Whoa. This guy has tapped into something that is electric and spontaneous.” There are moments where Darren is so good, he can be silly and then they’re calling “rolling” and he’s right there. I would look at his face and it was like he had been possessed by this soul. It was really creepy to see and amazing to watch and inspiring.

It’s not a traditional narrative structure. It must have been hard to tell this story backwards.
I had been on set and so immersed in the story for so long that it wasn’t something I had to put a ton of thought into just because I was so entrenched in the story already. I was lucky to get this episode because it’s almost a standalone. So much of this was can we get the audience to sympathize with a monster and understand that he was this child who was inured to violence very early. He had this snake oil salesman of a father who was teaching him that it’s not enough to be smart, you have to fit in. You’re special! Here’s the master bedroom. He basically had this family hostage emotionally, physically, sexually. So we got to watch that all play out on him and then meet him when he’s in high school.

I wanted it all to build up to that great Heart of Darkness/Apocalypse Now kind of confrontation that they have at the very end. That was kind of our inspiration for that. We wanted to have that final confrontation where you got the feeling if he just lashed out at his dad or punched him or killed him, he wouldn’t have killed anybody else. But because of that moment he turned inward, it later gets expressed outward for other people. We’re all responsible for the choices we make and the actions we take, but Andrew was a victim. We wanted the people to say, “Can I on some level sympathize with a monster?”

Was that in Maureen Orth’s book, that Andrew went to Manila to see his dad?
He did go to Manila and he did see his father one last time. Some of the dialogue and circumstances are imagined, but that’s what makes [Versace writer] Tom Rob Smith so brilliant, and they had all kinds of research going on outside the novel.

Jon Jon Briones as Modesto Cunanan is incredible. Did you have input in casting him?
Yes, it’s owed to a lot of people. I had been asked to direct before on things I was acting in, but I didn’t want that half-assed first experience directing. I wanted the whole experience. I wanted to be in every casting session I could. I wanted to be on location scouts, design meetings. It’s a real testament to Ryan Murphy, but Jon Jon had been brought to my intention very early on by Darren and Tom Rob Smith, who had both seen him in as the Engineer on Broadway in Miss Saigon. So I immediately reached out to Ryan and the producers and said, “We have to make sure we get this guy on tape.” He gave a kick-ass audition. This is a guy who has been doing mostly Miss Saigon for mostly the last 20-something years, but who was ready for this opportunity. Ryan is willing to take risks on people in order to serve the story. He’s done it for me in the past. This was that moment. My favorite part of this experience was getting to work with Jon Jon and getting to see somebody rise to the occasion.

In lesser hands, that performance would be broad and not so gray. But it’s so shaded.
I saw him as Willy Loman. This is somebody who comes from the rural Philippines and has to pull himself up by the bootstraps. He really had to make his own way. It’s that middle-class thing of you work and work to make to that higher class. What do you sacrifice in the process in terms of your morals and your ethics? It’s a very American, human, relatable story.

Where did Darren’s dance come from at the high school party? Was that improvised?
It was largely improvised. They also had a dance instructor there. We were so excited about that moment and that reveal. It was Ryan’s idea to have “Whip It,” which is such a specific beat and not the easiest thing to dance to. Darren just had a ball with it. In my original cut, it ended with him and Annaleigh Ashford on the dance floor and her falling into a full split.

We shot three different endings to this episode, and one of them was the two of them. But one of my favorite scenes to shoot was them by that fire, and you see that fire of their initial romance and coming together.

What do you want people to take away from your episode?
I think we discover in this episode that Andrew was also a victim. Like I said, we’re responsible for the choices we make and the actions we take. But he at one point was an impressionable, open child who was inured to violence at a young age, and messaging that’s not healthy for anyone to have. The things his father says to him and does to him both as a child and when he’s older that he internalizes were a big part of getting the full, holistic picture of who he was by the time we’re in the final episode with him in Miami.

Will we see more “Directed by Matt Bomer” credits?
I would love that! I had such a great time doing it. I was also really blessed because when you’re working with Ryan Murphy, you have the best people in the business around you. I know that I’m going to get to another job at some point and it’s going to be like the Real Deal Holyfield and it’s not all my friends that I’m working with. But I just loved it. It was a huge episode. The first cut was 90 minutes long. I think half the battle is just knowing, oh my gosh, I can do this. I can be given this massive script and do it on time and get it done. Hopefully there will be more stuff, but it’s got to be something that moves me.

Tell me about doing The Boys in the Band on Broadway!
We start rehearsals on Good Friday. I’m so excited. Just to get to share the stage with those guys and work with Joe Mantello as a director and watch and learn. So much of my understanding of our history starts with Larry Kramer and Torch Song Trilogy. To go back another generation and understand what pre-Stonewall life was like and the fact that these guys are all cooped up in this house together because if they’re dancing in public they’ll be arrested! The stakes are so high! Society has told them that they are “other,” “less than,” and “shameful.” So there are all these misdirected emotions coming at each other in different ways, and what they really want to say is “I love you” and “We’re the same!”

‘Assassination of Gianni Versace’: Matt Bomer on directing that pivotal origin episode

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: Fact-checking Episode 8

The second season of Ryan Murphy’s American Crime Story anthology series, titled The Assassination of Gianni Versace, explores the titular designer’s brutal 1997 murder at the hands of serial killer Andrew Cunanan. We’re walking through all nine episodes in an effort to identify what ACS: Versace handles with care versus when it deviates from documented fact and common perception. The intention here is less to debunk an explicitly dramatized version of true events than to help viewers piece together a holistic picture of the circumstances surrounding Versace’s murder. In other words, these weekly digests are best considered supplements to each episode rather than counterarguments. Below are the results of our dogged research into the veracity and potency of events and characterizations presented in episode eight, “Creator/Destroyer.”

What They Got Right

Andrew’s father
Modesto “Pete” Cunanan was no angel. The Navy vet-turned-stockbroker and father of four did, according to court records, embezzle a couple hundred thousand dollars, ditch his family, and flee to the Philippines. He even briefly returned to the U.S. after Andrew’s death to seemingly capitalize on his notoriety. There’s less evidence to support the story that he swindled an elderly woman named Vera out of her savings, invoking the ire of her burly grandson, but the FBI was definitely onto him, and by 1988, he was outta there. At least until he returned nine years later and attempted to capitalize on his son’s notoriety.

Andrew as the favorite child
We’ve already confirmed that Cunanan lorded over his family’s master bedroom, but what about his father demonstrating outright preferential treatment relative to his three siblings? Look no further than the testimony of his brother Christopher and sister Elena, who both remarked on Andrew’s favored status in a 1997 ABC interviewwith Diane Sawyer. They even verify that he was gifted with a Nissan 300ZX from dad — though Modesto purchasing it years in advance appears to be a touch of, well, driver’s license.

The high-school yearbook
There’s no way to know if Andrew told off a homophobic jock before unbuttoning his top and loosening his tie, but his yearbook spread did absolutely feature him more or less shirtless and beaming. And his much-dissected senior quote did invoke Louis XV and read, “Après moi, le deluge,” or “After me, the flood.” There is, however, some discrepancy in accounts of his superlative that year. Maureen Orth and the New York Daily News, among others, reported it then as “Least Likely to Be Forgotten,” while most current coverage asserts it was “Most Likely to Be Remembered.” And Newsweek claimed that Andrew was voted “Most Likely Not to Be Forgotten.” Less up for interpretation is his eventual status as one of the FBI’s Most Wanted.

What They Took Liberties With

Gianni’s mother
“Creator/Destroyer” would have it that Gianni’s dressmaker matriarch, Francesca, identified his gift for design while he was still a boy and defied anyone who steered him from his passion for fashion. That’s a bit ideal, even in Gianni’s memory. During a 1994 interviewwith Charlie Rose, Versace told an anecdote about how, even in his teen years, his main aspiration was to compose music like Burt Bacharach or Gershwin. However, he continues, “My mother say, ‘No, you stay with me.’ Something was in my blood, in my family.” He was certainly not spiteful, but to say he only had one goal all his life and that his mother championed whatever his whims would be a slight exaggeration.

Andrew and Elizabeth’s meet-cute
Elizabeth Cote was indeed Andrew’s friend, she did anoint him godfather to his kids, and even videotaped a plea for him to cease his killing jag. But by Orth’s own account, the pair met in junior high, not at a high-school kegger. Not to mention, reporting by then-Sun Sentinel journalist and current Miami Herald staffer Luisa Yanez — who has contributed her insights on and off to this column all season — notes that Andrew wore that fabulous red jumpsuit to his prom, as opposed to some local rager. Though interestingly, Yanez and her co-author Sergio Bustos also second what “Creator/Destroyer” puts forth about Cunanan having already had at least one older male benefactor by his senior year.

Andrew’s bedtime reading
We were unable to uncover any evidence that Modesto lullabied Andrew with passages from The Art of Conversation. The most widely read tome with that title wasn’t actually released until 2008, while other publications with the same title, like Peter Burke’s more academic reference, weren’t yet in circulation when Andrew was a youth. Let’s assume Art of Conversation was a stand-in, for whatever reason, for Dale Carnegie’s touchstone How to Win Friends and Influence People. Ultimately, we get it: Art of Conversation is the kind of book his dad would model his personality on and try to instill lessons from in his prized protégé.

Modesto molesting Andrew
First, there’s Modesto gently taking Andrew by the hand and leading him softly up the stairs to his new room while the children are outside pondering there whereabouts and mom looks concerned. Then, far more bluntly, Modesto looms over Andrew in bed, encouraging him to channel the same silence he bravely mustered after burning his foot on a heater (a story relayed to Orth by Modesto) years back. And then the lights go out. Yikes. We have uncovered nothing to support the implication that Andrew was sexually abused by his father, though shortly after his death, the Washington Post did repeat an unconfirmed report that Andrew — using his DeSilva pseudonym — may have called into a hotline for victims of abuse by Catholic priests. Nor were we able to find anything outside of accusations by Mary Ann Cunanan and Andrew’s godfather, Delfin Labao, in Orth’s book corroborating that Modesto was physically abusive with her (ditto recollections from Pete and Delfin that Mary Ann was hospitalized with postpartum depression).

Andrew and Modesto’s Manila showdown
Several sources cited Mary Ann’s divorce filings to confirm that Andrew visited Modesto in the Philippines soon after his father fled the States. Those same sources also quote Mary Ann in the court papers as claiming her boy came back in short order, repulsed by Modesto’s “squalid living conditions.” Their dramatic confrontation, which culminate in the episode with Modesto berating his son as a “sissy boy” and Andrew showing a flash of violent impulse by warding his father away with a kitchen knife, is by all indications pure plotting. Like many of ACS Versace’s more melodramatic asides, this confrontation filled a need, in this case suitably disorienting the character of Andrew to an extent where he’d go adrift in search of love and acceptance, but become triggered by the slightest betrayal.

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: Fact-checking Episode 8

‘American Crime Story: Versace’ Director Matt Bomer on Bringing Three Different Continents to Life Within L.A. City Limits

The penultimate episode of “The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story” is almost like a checklist of all the challenges a director might face in crafting an episode of TV. For Matt Bomer, that’s exactly why it made for the perfect directorial debut.

“We had two child protagonists in the first couple acts of the episode, so you’re already on child hours. We’re in three different countries, five different cities. Party scenes, trading floor scenes, a period piece,” Bomer told IndieWire. “I was so grateful to be thrown so many challenges my first time directing because I was able to tick off so many boxes of things that I don’t have to worry about any more. Half of it was just getting it done and knowing you can do it and do it on schedule.”

Known for his work in front of the camera, Bomer had other opportunities to direct before but always wanted to wait for the optimum chance to immerse himself in a project. When “American Crime Story” became a possibility, Bomer devised his own personal film school to get himself ready to meet the challenge.

“I was waiting patiently in the wings. Ryan had reached out to me back in December [2016] and asked me to direct. After I passed out and regained consciousness, I said yes and really spent four and a half months on this episode,” Bomer said. “I read over 3,000 pages of books on directing, I shadowed two different directors on the show. I sat down with film and television directors who are friends of mine who were willing to be mentors. I did an intensive at the DGA. I knew the level of artistry that was [happening] on set and I wanted to meet everyone on their level.”

Part of Bomer’s signing up for “American Crime Story” was the chance to fully commit to the task. He was on set for a month of shoots while the show was filming other episodes in the season, affording him the chance to know the full crew before he started.

“I didn’t want that partial directorial experience. I wanted to really immerse myself and approach it like any director would. I wanted to be there for all the scouts. I wanted to be in the room for all the casting. I wanted to be in all the design meetings. I didn’t want to just lean on the director of photography to get me through while I worked with actors,” Bomer said.

For an episode that meant turning L.A. into locations as wide-ranging as San Diego and the Philippines, it was an investment that paid off down the road.

“I had to find three different countries within a Los Angeles area,” Bomer said. “We had an incredible production designer in Jamie Walker McCall. She worked her magic, particularly what she did in the Baliuag shack. That final confrontation between Andrew and his father is a setpiece we talked through that she built. I think her work on that was tremendous.”

The pivotal piece in the “Creator/Destroyer” puzzle is Jon Jon Briones, who plays Andrew Cunanan’s father Modesto, a man whose pathological drive to appease his son lays the groundwork for the rest of the “Versace” saga that came before this. Briones’ reputation as a performer had preceded him on set, with “Versace” star Darren Criss and writer Tom Rob Smith both praising his legendary, long-running work as The Engineer in “Miss Saigon.” Through the audition and right up through the first day of shooting, Bomer knew they had the perfect man to play Modesto.

“We started with that move-out scene early on. He had this guy and he knew this man. We were also shooting this while he was in a Broadway show, so we had to shoot all of his stuff out in six days straight and then he had to fly back to New York,” Bomer said. “That final scene, that ‘Heart of Darkness’/’Apocalypse Now’ confrontation at the end of the episode, that was really when I went, ‘OK, this guy is sensational. He’s got this all mapped out and he knows how to do this.‘”

Building a relationship with the two performers at the heart of the episode was key. Even though Bomer didn’t come in with a predetermined directorial style, he had the advantage of having already seen what Criss was doing with Andrew Cunanan as a character before it came time to show how he got there.

“I had been witness to what Darren was doing on set and had been blown away by it from Day One. I knew how he liked to work. I think a big part of directing is when you’ve got something great, get out of the way. Just set a good frame that tells the story right, stage it right,” Bomer said. “I try to give the actors a lot of information about what the scene’s about by how I stage it. There are also times when it’s a three-page scene between two people and I go, ‘I’m not giving you anything. Let’s rehearse until we get something that’s organic and true and then we’ll shoot that.’ So there’s no one-size-fits-all. You’re always dealing with a different box of crayons, depending on which artist you’re working with in any given scene.”

That preparation meant that even the smaller moments in the episodes, ones on a much simpler scale, had the opportunity to take advantage of everyone’s shorthand.

“One of my favorite things we did was that really quick scene where he puts on the CD and he’s picking out his big reveal outfit for the party. It was a tiny little thing, but we were just vibing creatively with the camera people, with Darren. Everything was coming together at that point. I think we did it in one take,” Bomer said.

That sense of understanding came from collaborating with people that Bomer had previously worked with on other Ryan Murphy projects. Those individuals were part of every step of the “Creator/Destroyer” process, from the on-set crew to the stewards of the post process.

“I was so fortunate because when you’re working with Ryan Murphy, you’re working with the best people in the industry. I’m not talking about episodic. I’m talking about in the industry,” Bomer said. “The camera crew, the production designers. Simon Dennis, the director of photography. Alexis [Martin] Woodall, what she does in post-production, the way she tones these shows is phenomenal. My editor, Shelly Westerman, was a personal hero of mine. She did ‘Velvet Goldmine’ and worked on so many of the films that were really central to my cinematic experience as a young man.”

That editing process shines in the boardroom scenes where Modesto is essentially pitching the American dream to his employers, both before he’s hired and after his penny stock scheme has been sniffed out.

“This is Sidney Lumet-esque style, where these performers are all bringing their A-game. Shelly and I knew we wanted these scenes to live for a long time, not to be this MTV, jump-cutting thing. Stay in masters longer and not chop and chop and chop to distract,” Bomer said. “Particularly in an episode like this, it’s so psychological, you needed to have this creepy drifty feel and live in these moments that are uncomfortable and horrific and scary. Especially when you have performers operating at this level.”

Bomer said he’s back to being patient about any future directing opportunities, but having this finished and released to the world is the first step in keeping those future options open.

“It was all a learning process, but I feel like with anything, discipline can give you freedom. I was so overly prepared because I had the time and the luxury to be overly prepared. The first couple days we finished a bit early and I was able to take some deep breaths,” Bomer said. “I know that there will be a time when I am directing and I’m having to deal with some much harsher realities that you don’t have to deal with when you’re working for Ryan Murphy television. The best thing this gave me was this sense that I can do it.”

‘American Crime Story: Versace’ Director Matt Bomer on Bringing Three Different Continents to Life Within L.A. City Limits