2018 Outstanding Limited Series Emmy Contenders

Unlike last season where an expected showdown between “Big Little Lies” and “Feud: Bette vs. Joan” turned into a sweep for the former this year’s Limited Series crop has delivered a more wide-open race.  FX’s “Assassination of Gianni Versace” and Showtime’s “Twin Peaks“ have to be considered the frontrunners, but Hulu’s “The Looming Tower” has a great shot as well.  Who will fill out the remaining five slots remains to be seen.  Netflix’s “Godless” and Showtime’s “Patrick Melrose” seem likely, but there are a number of stealth candidates still in the mix. [Posted March 27]

Frontrunners
“Assassination of Gianni Versace”
“Godless”
“The Looming Tower”
“Patrick Melrose”
“Twin Peaks”

Almost there
“American Vandal”
“Howard’s End”
“The Sinner”
“Top of the Lake: China Girl”

Longshots
“Alias Grace”
“The Alienist”
“Collateral”
“Genius: Picasso”
“Mosaic”
“The Terror”

2018 Outstanding Limited Series Emmy Contenders

2018 Outstanding Lead Actor in a Limited Series or Movie Emmy Predictions

This year is seemingly less competitive than you’d expect.  Do Benedict Cuberbatch or Jeff Daniels get snubbed?  Unlikely.  Can Antonio Banderas make the cut?  Possible, but we’re not so sure.  Frankly, the final six in this category may already be set.  [Posted April 4]

Frontrunners
Darren Criss, “Assassination of Gianni Versace”
Benedict Cumberbatch, “Patrick Melrose”
Jeff Daniels, “The Looming Tower”
Michael B. Jordan, “Fahrenheight 451”
Kyle MacLachlan, “Twin Peaks”
Al Pacino, “Paterno”

Almost there
Antonio Banderas, “Genius: Picasso”
Daniel Bruhl, “The Alienist”
Evan Peters, “American Horror Story: Cult”
Michael Shannon, “Waco”

2018 Outstanding Lead Actor in a Limited Series or Movie Emmy Predictions

The Profited, Televised FX Spectacle of Gianni Versace’s Assassination – HOLR Magazine

On March 21st, a Wednesday night, 1.2 million people across the United States huddled around television screens and laptop monitors to witness the bittersweet denouement of FX’s true crime anthology series, The Assassination of Gianni Versace, which stars Penélope Cruz, Darren Criss, Édgar Ramírez and Ricky Martin. The show, which operatically back-pedals through serial killer Andrew Cunanan’s (Criss) untempered orgy of violence, delivered one last exhibitionist image in “Alone,” its ninth and final episode: Cunanan, swaying on a two-story houseboat in Miami Beach, places his gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger. And so, in the blink of an eye, a fleeting series that recalled the senseless killings and fruitless FBI pursuit of murderer Andrew Cunanan drew to a lurid close. But what didn’t pass on for me, as a true crime purist, was the burning question the prestige of this genre never fails to invoke:

IS IT INHERENTLY WRONG FOR SHOWS LIKE AMERICAN CRIME STORY TO REANIMATE REAL PEOPLE, ONLY TO SLAUGHTER THEM FOR THE SAKE OF PROFIT AND ENTERTAINMENT?

When it comes to the seductive nature of the true crime species, criticism regarding the validity of factual representation is inevitable. But it’s an especially prickly situation when those appearing in the retelling are still alive: Michael Oher felt infantilized by his character in The Blind Side; Lil’ Kim thought Notorious painted her as a shallow nymphomaniac; psychologist Philip Zimbardo was wholly unimpressed with the 2002 release of The Experiment. (“It makes Stanford and me and psychology look bad.”) And just days into the inaugural month of January, less than two weeks before the premiere of Versace: ACS, the Versace joined this exasperated lineage, making their own concerns public: “The Versace family has neither authorized nor had any involvement whatsoever in the forthcoming TV series about the death of Mr. Gianni Versace,” a representative explained in a statement. “Since Versace did not authorize the book on which it is partly based nor has it taken part in the writing of the screenplay, this TV series should only be considered as a work of fiction.” The unrelenting series is predicated on the “fact-based reporting” of journalist Maureen Orth‘s 1999 book, Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History.

The formality of the Versace family’s statement was a façade professionally absent of emotion — months earlier, Versace’s lover, Antonio d’Amico, fiercely expressed his anxieties about the show’s premise: “So much has been fictionalized. Unfortunately, Gianni died. Unfortunately, this guy killed him. Unfortunately, it happened: but now, let it drop,” he pled.

The true crime genre satiates the curiosity and wading boredom of the common Netflix addict. From options from Making a Murderer to The Keepers to The Jinx, an expansive arsenal of TV voyeurism exists at the click of a button. But beyond the climbing viewer tolls and critical acclaims these shows tend to garner (American Crime Story is already an Emmy and Golden Globe award-winning series), there are real people off-screen whose lives are being scrutinized and consumed. The death of a person whose family likely still privately grieves at the sound of their name becomes a public spectacle, existing as a vehicle for the profit of television networks. The imagination isn’t strong enough to access or empathize with the emotions of those who are thrust back into an interrupted mourning cycle, reliving the traumas of a loved one’s death.

In May 2016, a woman named Lauren Bradford wrote an agonizing op-ed in The Guardian about the impacts of the true crime genre. Bradford’s father and his mistress killed her mother in 1991; in 2016, a miniseries called The Secret emerged to tell the story — despite the resistance of Bradford and her family. “When media interest goes beyond the reporting of events and is against the wishes of family members, the effects can be as devastating as the murder itself,” she wrote. “People bereaved by murder have no voice. And yet some members of the media industry continue to exploit the murder-bereaved and victims of crime in pursuit of entertainment.” Bradford went on to detail how truths were rewritten and embellished; how she was berated by the social media and PR buildup around the series; how the production company trivially misspelled her deceased mother’s name in her correspondence with them.

Versace: ACS has all the hallmarks of an excellent true crime series, and speaks to overarching themes of homophobia, HIV, drug addiction and, according to producer Ryan Murphy, feminism. But summoning these people at the beginning of an episode only to bloody them by the end, all for the purpose of dramatic entertainment (and the subsequent mountains of profit and critical acclaim) seems, for the most part, inherently voyeuristic and exploitative. In transforming real people into symbols, or vehicles, to explore these greater themes and stories, we strip them of their humanity, whittling them down to fabled characters who live on screen to dance for the viewer on nightly programming. The splendor of a human being, twice erased, is at once compressed, and the difference between their grandiosity and potential monotony becomes a variable solved by the performance of the actor.

People are not chess pieces that can fit into campy, macabre TV dramas. And when the people involved in these portrayals are rearing their heads at the images, it’s important to interrogate to what end these shows exist, and whose interests they are serving. The people on screen no longer belong to their families. Private grief, as Bradford says, becomes public property.

Dramatizations, of course, are both valuable and important. Versace: ACS was particularly excellent, perhaps both in spite of and because of its enthralling darkness (and compelling acting). And beyond ACS, films such as Spotlight and Schindler’s List construct portals into tragedies that have had longstanding impacts and affected generational trauma. But it’s vital to question how healthy our relationships and ultimate consumption of these “stories” are. How do we reconcile our fascination with these shows when the families whose lives have been intruded never gave their authorization?

Gianni Versace was employed as a starting point for a series that intricately moves reverse chronologically through the violent escapades of a serial murderer. And as we roam further away from his death, we almost forget the lingering image of his mangled body, stretched across the lap of his lover like some depraved iteration of Michelangelo’s Pietà. His corpse, by the second episode, becomes a person again, with a cadence that suggests a future without a bloody end. Versace overcomes HIV; he reveals to the world he is gay; his lover abandons his tendency to procure sexual partners for them in favour of monogamy — for a moment, we forget how this all ended. But forgetting is a luxury the Versace family does not have.

The Profited, Televised FX Spectacle of Gianni Versace’s Assassination – HOLR Magazine


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AREA 52 080: “Dying To Be Famous”

On July 15, 1997, a man walked up behind Italian fashion designer Gianni Versace as he was entering his South Beach estate and shot him in the head, killing him. This murder introduced the world to the name Andrew Cunanan, a man who sought fame and acceptance so desperately, he was willing to kill for it. Versace wasn’t his only victim. In fact, Andrew’s 4 state murder spree left a trail of bodies and questions behind that still baffle and intrigue investigators. Why did he do it? What made him snap? Was it all avoidable, or was Andrew just born to kill? Join us this week as we examine Cunanan’s life and crimes, from his troubled and turbulent childhood, to the web of lies that he lived as an adult and the victims he left in his wake, we do our best to figure out who Andrew was and what lead him down the darkest path of all. | 5 April 2018

10 Best TV Episodes of 2018 (So Far)

1. ‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 4: “House By the Lake”

With its fourth episode, The Assassination of Gianni Versace emerged as the show it had been trying to be. Without the gaudy trappings of the Versace family, producer Ryan Murphy and writer Tom Rob Smith turned their narrative eye towards the unbearably tragic murder of David Madson.

Darren Criss (as Andrew Cunanan) and Cody Fern (as Madson) turn in searing performances as killer and victim, respectively, anchoring the episode even as it takes a few flights of fancy. — Joe Reid

10 Best TV Episodes of 2018 (So Far)

Star World hand-picks this year’s must-watch shows in ‘Star World Recommends’

Kick-starting the line-up is the critic and audience favourite series The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story! Hailing from the multi-award winning director Ryan Murphy, the series is a spectacle of fashion, luxury, power and even murder. A deeply moving account of Andrew Cunanan, the murders he committed, the killing of the fashion industry’s biggest icon – Gianni Versace and the coming into power of Donatella Versace, the series has been lauded by one and all! What’s more? It is packed with power performances by Academy Award winner Penelope Cruz as Donatella Versace, Edgar Ramirez as Gianni Versace, critic favourite Darren Criss as murderer Andrew Cunanan, Ricky Martin as Antonio D’Amico among others! ‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ premieres on Star World, on 16th April, Monday to Friday at 9 PM!

Star World hand-picks this year’s must-watch shows in ‘Star World Recommends’

American Psycho: ‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’

Ryan Murphy’s American Crime Story returned after its first season, The People Versus O.J. Simpson, with a very different kind of show for its second: The Assassination of Gianni Versace.

Tracing the murder of the Miami-based designer Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramírez) by serial killer Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss), this season of American Crime Story looks and feels quite different from the first. Written by Tom Rob Smith, who spent years researching the subject, and based on Maureen Orth’s book, Vulgar Favors, the season opens with the titular event outside Versace’s opulent Miami mansion and then progresses backward in time, following in the murder spree that preceded that gruesome event. Penélope Cruz also appears as Versace’s sister Donatella and Ricky Martin as his lover, Antonio.

“The first rule with Ryan is we always want to be different tonally, visually, in every way,” explains Ryan’s frequent collaborator, cinematographer Nelson Cragg ASC, who shot the entire O.J. season of ACS and the premiere season of Feud. Cragg handled cinematography for the first two episodes of Versace, and also directed the second. “Ryan did not want to do another courtroom drama. I shot O.J. on longer lenses. It was a lot of courtrooms and offices. We used a lot of close-ups. It didn’t require the same kind of scope.”

Cragg explains how the conception for Versace was different. “These are larger-than-life people and contrasting worlds,” he says. “It’s a larger-than-life house. His world is full of opulence, beauty, symmetry. And Cunanan’s world is raw and infused with emotional and moral bankruptcy.

"That’s how we structured the first episode—the beauty and brightness and colors Versace surrounded himself and the much more down, scattered look of Cunanan’s environment.”

It would be clear even with the sound off what the characters and themes of the season are as we’re introduced to Versace in his home (shot in the actual mansion he called home, now a working hotel). “Versace’s world is very controlled, built, designed, and loved,” Cragg says.

Contrast obviously comes from the locations—Versace’s palatial home compared to Cunanan’s seedy hotel—but Murphy and Cragg also like to enhance the visuals formally and conceptually.

“I wanted most of the shots of him at home to highlight that symmetry. Most of them are symmetrical compositions with crane moves that are straight up or straight down. It called for shooting with wide lenses and sweeping moves. First and foremost, the wide lenses are to show spaces. The real house Versace lived in and the best way to do that is be really wide—12mm, 14mm, maybe 16mm and 18mm. And on cranes to show space.”

Meanwhile, the murderer’s disjointed behavior in obviously poorer areas of South Beach, is covered in a less ordered, less formally pleasant way.

While later episodes would use sets on the 20 Century Fox lot and some Los Angeles exteriors to stand in for other cities, these first two shows, cross-boarded and shot like one movie, were filmed in and around South Beach to capture the location’s textures, colors and contrasts.

Cragg, production designer Judy Becker, costume designer Lou Eyrich—all frequent contributors to Murphy’s work—planned out their approaches in preproduction based on early discussions with Murphy.

“When led by an auteur like Ryan, it comes out and these great teams do so much research and create huge boards with color palette. We don’t so much talk about all these ideas,” he says, “as feel it as we go.”

Cragg utilized Angenieux Optimo lightweight 15-40mm zooms and Zeiss Ultra Primes for the season. The cameras—ARRI Alexa Mini and SXT Plus shooting at 3.2K ProRes 4:4:4:4 —were often mounted on 30- or 50-foot Technocranes with various three-axis stabilized heads. In more confined spaces, the crew would use smaller telescoping cranes, such as the MovieBird.

As with other Murphy projects, shooting days are built around the idea of creating multiple setups concurrently to bring in a significant amount of material per day. “We’d always have three cameras,” Cragg says, “but one or two of them would usually break off and set up additional shots all over the Versace mansion. That’s how we got so much done on a tight schedule. We had Penélope Cruz and Ricky Martin in different rooms of the mansion doing very emotional scenes. The Versace mansion is a working hotel and we shot there and all along South Beach was in the middle of tourist seasons so it was very expensive to shoot there.

"I think I’d only work that way with Ryan,” Cragg notes. “He’s the master multitasker. With Ryan, he’s going to write as he goes. He’ll see something or a room he likes and he’ll create scenes based on things he sees.”

Cragg definitely approves of this approach: “It’s good for performance and the speed of the set,” he offers. “We get a lot of material each day. I don’t like long, laborious lighting setups. I don’t feel they ultimately help tell the story.” That said, he notes, “With Ryan’s show you do want a lot of scenes nicely lit and glossy, especially the Versace portions.”

The solution he and gaffer David Kagen came up with had to do with lighting day interiors from outside as much as possible and using smaller, energy-efficient LEDs inside.

“Of course, we couldn’t break anything or do anything to the walls with these million dollar mosaics or doors with hand inlaid marble,” Cragg recalls. “We would light the mansion from the outside when we could,” Kagen adds. “We’d have big HMI units outside mixing with the natural sunlight but the mansion is so beautiful and has natural light from the big windows a lot of it we didn’t need to add too much light.”

Inside, they’d bounce Source 4 Lekos into unbleached muslin and for larger spaces, ARRI Sky Panel and Litegear/Quasar LED units and some homemade units Kagen and crew built, particularly to fit in small spaces. Despite the mansion’s restrictions and abundance of irreplaceable artifacts, Kagen credits the team’s avoidance of disaster on, “a skilled union crew who knows how to navigate any setting without damaging things.”

Although much of the season beyond these first two episodes is set in other locations throughout the country, the look and feel of that South Beach mansion permeates everything that transpires, it represents exactly the kind of success and validation that Cunanan desperately craves in his own malignant way.

In addition to the filmmakers’ use of the real location and the department heads’ extensive research and design, Cragg also enlisted the help of colorist Kevin Kirwan of Encore in Hollywood, “to help us get those coral colors and pastels of Miami from the time period—the warm reds, the pinks, the specific look of Versace’s robe. I’ve worked with Kevin on Ryan’s shows for a long time and we have a kind of shorthand when we work together.”

Cragg was able to choose his successor for the remainder of the season and proposed British cinematographer Simon Dennis. “I’ve known Simon for 10 years,” Cragg says. “I really like his lighting. He did some episodes of [Netflix’s British ‘20s-era crime series] Peaky Blinders and the work was great, really atmospheric. He’d never done American TV so it took some convincing with producers but once they talked to him and saw his reel, they were convinced.”

Of the season’s unusual structure, Cragg admits, “We weren’t sure if it would work. I think it’s interesting and unique to tell the story in reverse. It adds to the sense of dread because you meet these characters that you know are going to die. But I think it works.”

He goes on to explain how inspiring he found Murphy’s conception of the series as a “bright thriller,” noting, “The closest thing I’ve seen is The Talented Mr. Ripley. We wanted to tell very dark story about homophobia and gay culture, AIDS and persecution, and being in the closet in that time period and we liked the idea of all that happening in 1990s Miami with the bright pastels and its strong sunlight contrasting with darkness that’s happening in the story.”

American Psycho: ‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’