Unlike his other hits, Ryan Murphy’s macabre and sometimes downright scary The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story has little to no hilarious moments — that is, until Episode 6, when one of Norman Blachford’s friends Gallo shows up to tear Norman’s live-in con artist friend Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) to shreds. “Only the queen of England has two parties,” Gallo quips to Andrew, who’s convinced his benefactor to fund two soirees.“I’m afraid you’re not that sort of queen.” But the zinger of all zingers comes when Gallo shoots the unforgettable searing dagger, “What a volatile mix you are — too lazy to work and too proud to be kept.” Gallo, as the kids say, read that bitch for filth.
Gallo’s lines are expert examples of the gay tradition of “reading” and “throwing shade,” but the wig-singeing sass with which the barbs are delivered is hardly accidental: the man tearing Andrew a new one is Terry Sweeney — a pioneering writer/performer who was the first openly gay cast member of Saturday Night Live.
Sweeney’s casting in Versace has several layers of resonance — mostly because Sweeney is a living embodiment of the series’ main thesis about societal homophobia. Despite becoming memorable for his impersonations of celebrities including Nancy Reagan, Joan Rivers and Diana Ross during his run from 1980-1986, Sweeney spent 10 years after SNL out of work, as Hollywood balked at hiring an out gay actor. But that’s only partly why Sweeney’s scene-stealing role in Versace feels like a full circle moment. In his early SNL days, a young gay reporter reached out to interview him for a story. That reporter’s name? Ryan Murphy.
“I was one of the first people he ever interviewed,” says Sweeney, who left Hollywood for Beaufort, S.C. in the mid-2000s. “I could tell he was a young kid and we had a great interview and he wrote a lovely article about me. Who would dream years later someone that works for him would find me and hire me for this part?”
Sweeney got the part after meeting a producer for Versace at a dinner party in Ojia, Calif., a small, New Age-y town about two hours northwest of Los Angeles. “He was looking at me during dinner and said, ‘You’re the person we’ve been looking for, you’re Gallo.’” Not mentioned in the source material for the show Vulgar Favors, Gallo seems to be a composite of Norman Blachford’s older, wealthy friends who were trying to warn Norman about Andrew. It’s Sweeney’s first dramatic role. “I can now officially call myself a drama queen,” he quips. Director Gwyneth Horder-Patyon patiently guided him through relaxing into his body, “doing less” for the camera and reminding him of Gallo’s purpose. “She wanted me to be a tough, scary old queen” he says. “Gay people, drag queens — we have this ferocity we can call upon that is fearless and it’s intense. That’s what I was calling upon in that character, our strength.”
In the years after Saturday Night Live, Sweeney called on that strength as well as self-reliance to keep afloat. He wrote for movies (Shag), sketch comedy (MadTV) and got parts here and there; Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David hired him to tussle over a tennis racket with Elaine on Seinfeld, and he got roles on Family Matters and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. But for a gifted comic actor with several seasons of SNL under his belt, the offers were nowhere near what they should have been, a fact Sweeney recounts somewhat ruefully but with a sugary aplomb rather than the bitterness that could’ve easily consumed him. “At that time [gay people] were so invisible. People said ‘Wow, you’re so brave I would never want to destroy my career like that.’ Or ‘Why couldn’t you say you just haven’t met the right girl yet? Well, the right girl would have to have a penis. People would call you in to audition and the agent would go ‘They went another way. And you’re like, ‘Hmm what could that mean?’”
As Versace depicts, Sweeney’s early adult years coincided with rampant anti-gay discrimination that not only affected his career prospects but also seeped into everyday life. His time on SNL ran parallel with the onslaught of AIDS — the day he signed his contract, newsstands blared the news that Rock Hudson had contracted the disease — and he, like many other creatives in New York, lost friends in droves. The irony of impersonating Nancy Reagan, who, along with her husband Ronald famously refused to acknowledge AIDS, wasn’t lost on him. “They were acting like nothing was happening. I thought really? I’ve been to 10 memorials for people who are in their 20s. So something is happening. I hate to ruin your dinner on your new china.”
The death toll ebbed in the 1990s but the institutionalized homophobia lingered; Sweeney recalls a confrontation with a police officer in Beverly Hills who’d hurled a slur in his direction around 1994. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. I said, ‘Hey! I’m a faggot. I live in Beverly Hills, and this faggot pays your salary and doesn’t want to hear you talking about him like this in a public place!” Even so-called liberal spaces weren’t an entirely safe haven: Sweeney turned down an appearance on a “coming out”-themed episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show because a producer told him he couldn’t talk about drag on TV. “[The producer] says, ‘We’re trying to put a positive image out about gay people, that you’re not freaks; you’re just like everyone else.’”
Now married (he and longtime writing partner Lanier Laney have been together 36 years) and the author of a comic memoir Irritable Bowels and the People Who Give You Them, Sweeney is keenly aware of how humor can be a weapon against bigotry. But he’s grateful for the activists too, for being unafraid to get confrontational when it’s called for. “It’s time for all kinds of people to reassert themselves. Whether it’s kids protesting guns, African-Americans…all kinds of groups are coming out together.” Versace, he says, does a good job of showing just a small piece of what gay people were up against only 20 years ago; it is, as Ryan Murphy told TV Guide, a work of activism in its own rite. Of course, Sweeney and Murphy were thrilled to reunite so many decades later, the resonance of the occasion not lost on either of them.
“We just love each other,” Sweeney says. “He was a joy to work with. He loved what I did and he was quoting my lines. I have so much respect for what he does.” Recognizing the shift that’s taken place in society and Hollywood, he’s back in Los Angeles, ready to share his talents one more time. “I want to do worthwhile work,” he says. “I think now there’s more opportunity than ever.”
Tag: february 2018
‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’: Cody Fern talks playing David Madson
It’s quite possible you had never seen Cody Fern before. The young Australian actor has only a few credits to his name. But Fern is unforgettable on FX’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story as Andrew Cunanan’s second victim and good friend, David Madson. Viewers saw David’s murder in episode 4, but due to Versace’s backward structure are now able to see the beginnings of the relationship.
EW talked to Fern, who was recently cast on the final season of House of Cards, about landing this major break and acting in this true-crime saga.
ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: How did you get this Versace role?
CODY FERN: I was actually in London at the time because I was working on a feature film that I was writing and directing. So I was in London because I went to work on the script with my writing partner. I was in a little bit of a rut in terms of where I was as an actor. I was always up for big roles, and it was always between me and one other. I was really selective about the work I wanted to do. I was frustrated because I wasn’t getting the gig. It always came down to star name, this that and the other. So I actually decided I was going to take a year off from acting and just focus on writing and directing. I had jokingly said the only thing that was going to put this production on hold would be if Ryan Murphy, HBO, or David Fincher called. So it’s funny now.You grew up in Australia. Were you aware of the Versace murder?
Being from Australia is isolation from this story in once sense, but I also think it’s a generational divide. I knew there was Gianni Versace, but I didn’t even know Versace had been murdered. So I was new to the story as a whole. Before I started filming, I read Vulgar Favors. So I came to know everything as I was actually in the story, and that was phenomenal. I think it’s something the series does so brilliantly in the kind of switch-and-bait of we think we’re entering the world of one killing, but we’re actually entering into this story that hadn’t been told: There are four other victims that nobody knows about.Was there any thought to reaching out to David’s family?
I considered reaching out to the Madson family. First and foremost, we have Maureen Orth’s book. Second, you have Tom Rob Smith, who’s phenomenal as a writer. There was some discussion whether it or not it was appropriate for the actors to reach out to the families because it’s really dredging something up. I think everyone had a sense of wanting to protect the families from that kind of exposure. There are survivors of this tragedy and they are the family members, and it will be up to them as to whether or not they watch the series, so I think we wanted to keep it as their decision. I didn’t approach the Madson family out of respect. But when you have Tom Rob Smith’s writing and Maureen’s research, you’re in a good place.Tell me about episode 4, which was the most intense for your role. The entire hour is a building sense of dread, ending with David’s death. How was that shoot?
Emotionally, it was incredibly fraught. It was a huge upheaval. It was something I couldn’t separate being on set and taking the work home. It really affected me psychologically. It was so dark. At the same time, I felt so supported and so free to explore and to take risks and to really go there. So in one way it was the easiest thing I’ve ever done because Ryan works in a particular way where he selects every single person he’s working with. Being on set, it runs like a family so you feel very protected and very safe and nurtured. But then, of course, emotionally it’s one of the most taxing things because not only are you dealing with the literal things David is going through, but he’s also going through an incredible amount of shame that has built up since he had conscious thoughts. I think that was something that was also a layer we wanted to bring to the show, in dealing with homophobia and internalized gay shame. So that was the hardest thing to deal with.The murder of Jeff Trail and the hostage situation that ensues was its own particular beast, but I had Darren [Criss] to act opposite. He’s so unhinged and so brilliant. I never knew what he was going to do or what choice he was going to make. It was a wonderful experience, but it was also incredibly difficult.
The way the show is structured, you basically have to create your character backward. Like we meet David at the breaking point of his relationship with Andrew, and in tonight’s episode we see the beginning. That must have been a great challenge as an actor?
I actually preferred it in a strange way because what we see of David is somebody who’s at the end of his rope in his friendship with Andrew. Pretty soon on, Jeff is killed, so you have a character that is thrown into complete emotional disarray. So you get to explore the extremes of what David is feeling, the end of what he is as a human being. It was easier to find the crystal of who David was and what he was willing to fight for. Episode 4 really explores the arc of shame and his feelings of complicity in this murder, and he has been in the closet for so long and thought it was a sickness that brought this about. At the very core, David is fighting for what is right and what is good. Finally, fighting for his life in a way that says, “I’m not going to go down for this thing just because you say I am.” It meant that working backwards, I knew the very essence of who David was as a person. Then you get to form chemistry as actors, between Darren and myself. We became such good friends. We went through such extreme things together.It was just announced you’re joining House of Cards.
I’m over the moon. I’m thrilled. House of Cards I’ve watched since the first day. I was shaking the first day meeting Robin [Wright] because she’s such a powerful figure to me in the course of who I’ve become as an actor. It’s thrilling.Can you tease anything about your character?
There have been rumors about who my character was. I read an announcement saying I was the lover of Kevin Spacey’s character, which is completely inaccurate and false. That’s not the case. But I can also tell you I’m NOT a good guy.
‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’: Cody Fern talks playing David Madson
‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 6 Recap: The First Instagay
In my initial review of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, I described Darren Criss’ performance as Andrew Cunanan as “like an Instagay of the ‘90s: opportunistic, narcissistic, and a pathological liar.” We’ve seen flashes of that so far, particularly the pathology of dishonesty. But it’s in this sixth episode, “Descent,” that we see Andrew as the original Instagay fully flourish.
Andrew is throwing a birthday party for himself. He’s hosting it at the home he shares with his wealthy lover, Norman Blachford (Michael Nouri), in La Jolla, California. And everything about it has to be perfect. From his friend and future victim Jeff Trail’s presentation of his birthday present (Andrew actually bought a pair of shoes to give him instead of Jeff’s actual gift) to how he talks about his living situation (Norman isn’t a sugar daddy, Andrew is just living with him to redesign his home!), Andrew’s whole presentation is a construction.
Even how we first see him in this episode is bullshit. We see Andrew, nude, taking an extravagant dip into Norman’s pool on this gorgeous property — as if Andrew is directing the scene himself, convincing his audience that all this is his. As the episode goes on, and the narrative escapes Andrew more and more, we learn just how false this tableau is.
Speaking generally, my issue with Instagaydom at large comes down to dishonesty. The very act of sculpting your life — through what you choose to post, what lighting and filters you use, who you’re photographed with — is like lying in grand form. Now, you could argue that social media invites such curation, be it on Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, etc. I wouldn’t disagree with you there. But we all work to put forth our best selves, our funniest selves, our smartest selves. That’s true of real life as well.
What I find troubling about doing the same on Instagram is that it’s such a physical medium that allows for little context. See this white, cisgender, gay man with perfect abs? See him hanging out with dozens of men just like him, traveling on a seemingly infinite budget from fabulous location to fabulous location? An Instagay isn’t going to tell you that this is all a fabrication, a carefully designed life meant to attract more attention that will, in most cases, ultimately be converted into advertising revenue through sponsorships. They want you to believe in that fantasy. Context is the enemy of success on Instagram.
So we have a generation of young queer people who are growing up seeing these Instagays as not just a form of success, but the pinnacle of success. These hyper-stylized lives are seemingly achievable. Maybe it’s harmless and I’m being anxious over nothing. But I think, were I a young gay person trying to come into my own in 2018, I’d be constantly comparing myself to Instagays. And I think, in my mind, I’d lose that battle every time.
Andrew’s life, on the other hand, has context. If that first nude swim is what we’d see on his Insta story, the rest of the episode is what we’re not seeing posted on an Instagay’s feed. The party turns into a disaster, with every attempt to flatter Andrew’s crush, the adorable architect David Madsen (another future victim), foiled by the fantasy unraveling. After the party, his tantrum to Norman falls on deaf ears, and Andrew finds himself cut off from his funding. Finally, an extravagant trip to Los Angeles, all spent on worthless credit cards, to seduce David proves futile.
“Descent” is the story of Andrew’s perfectly curated life falling apart. This is how the spree killer we’ve seen in the episodes so far came to be: his lies consumed him, and his attempts to cover up his pathetic core were unsuccessful. Andrew Cunanan may have been the original Instagay, but he lacked the filters and the platform to keep up the charade. At episode’s end, he’s left a husk of his former self, being washed in a bath by his mother.
The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story is as much about how a killer is made as it is about his killings. Through its reverse storytelling structure, we learned more about the latter first. But now, we’re seeing the former — seeing how the seemingly perfect life slipped away from him.
That’s a lesson that’s still true: There is no such thing as the perfect life, no matter how it’s presented online. People get older. Looks fade. Money runs out. A fantasy is just that — and it’s only so long until the truth is revealed.
‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 6 Recap: The First Instagay
Andrew spirals out of control in a compelling American Crime Story
“Descent” B+
“Descent” is a lonely and isolating episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace, which is sometimes even heightened when Andrew is seen with other people. At the same time, it also remains unforgiving; there are instances where you almost want to feel sorry for him (the ending comes to mind) or when it offers hints to partially explain his actions, but the episode smartly never commits fully to these ideas. It’s these scenes where the effectiveness of the backwards timeline (which ended up growing on me) is most on display: you can’t ever feel truly sorry for Andrew because we’ve seen the vicious, brutal murders.
What “Descent” is most concerned with is depicting Andrew’s, well, descent as he spirals further into drugs, sadness, and desperation, becoming more unhinged with every moment. It also wants to simply shed more light on Andrew’s character in general—again, I presume, with a blend of fact and fiction. “Descent,” which jumps back a year before the murders, begins at Andrew’s birthday party while he’s on a mission to do one thing: win over David.
The only thing that’s bigger than Andrew’s current obsession with David is his forever obsession with being seen as someone much better than who he actually is. Andrew struggles to control other people’s perception of him, as if trying to craft his own narrative. He even wants to have two birthday parties: one for Norman’s friends, and one for Andrew’s—even though he’s ostensibly living off Norman (vaguely as a kept boy), he doesn’t want his peers to know that he’s shacked up with an older man. He wants them to think he’s available, he’s rich, he’s successful, and he’s in control. He especially wants David to see this.
It’s hard to parse how much of Andrew’s infatuation with David is real—or maybe he just thinks it’s real?—vs. how much he just thinks the two of them will look good together to outside people. But there seems to be some truth to Andrew’s infatuation (and the hope that the two of them can build something together) as he describes his feelings to a friend: “[David’s] a home. He’s a yard and a family, and picking kids up from school. He’s a future.” (Also of note: He says all this while still not being able to fully admit that he’s gay.) But despite Andrew’s efforts to impress—which includes a reluctant Jeff ordered to give Andrew a particular gift that Andrew himself picked out, and also lying to say he’s still a Naval Officer—David’s eyes are elsewhere. It’s David and Jeff who hit it off, not David and Andrew who nervously watches the two chat before slipping away for some confidence-boosting drugs. You can see Andrew start to unravel during this party, full of nervous and paranoid energy, and increasingly upset that he’s not in control.
Control is such a recurring theme in this episode: personal control, control over people, control over relationships, losing control to drugs and madness, relinquishing control to a familiar family figure. Reeling from the party not going his way, Andrew hands Norman a list—an ultimatum, really—about what he wants in order to stay. But Norman isn’t as foggy as Andrew assumed; turns out, Norman already investigated Andrew and found out all about his lies. Among them? Saying his parents are New York City billionaires, that was he was disowned when they learned of Norman, and that he has a PhD. Andrew’s a mix of frustrating contradictions: The notion of going back to school is “insulting” because it’s “ordinary”—Andrew’s biggest fear, it seems, is to be a normal, ordinary, forgettable person—yet he still puts enough importance on being educated that he lies about having a doctorate.
Andrew loses the control he thought he had over Norman, and both David and Jeff are next. A glossed-over element from “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell”—the postcard that Andrew “accidentally” sent to Jeff’s father—occurs in this episode, and Andrew plays dumb (“Why would I do that?” and “Your parents always assume”) but now it’s clearer that this move to force Jeff out is another way Andrew attempted to exert control over the men in his life, especially when they weren’t catering to his will. With Jeff moving to Minneapolis for a propane job—not for David, he emphasizes, but that’s surely a part of it—Andrew see this as two men he brought together, one of whom he “loves,” leaving him on the outside.
Andrew tries to regain control through David, surprising him with a ticket to Los Angeles and a free stay in a fancy-as-hell hotel, treating him to big meals and new clothes (“Dress for the man you’re going to be,” he advises). He tries to woo David by sort-of speaking honestly, per David’s request, and does sprinkle in some real details (his parents’, and especially his mother’s, spoiling him to a bizarre extent) with some toned-down lies. But that doesn’t work either. Andrew is left alone, now controlling the fictional narrative in his head, telling a bartender about his engagement and honeymoon.
In a drugged-up fantasy sequence where Andrew, high on crystal, imagines Versace as his tailor, Assassination once again tries to draw parallels between murderer and victim—while astutely showing Andrew’s warped self-perception. Andrew is sort of right in believing that he’s given a lot to people but that’s different from believing the world has “taken” from him. And his generosity isn’t about being generous at all: it’s about buying people’s affecting, forcing people into trips, manipulation and control through material items. “The world has wasted me,” Andrew says, even though it’s turned Versace “into a star.” In a searing exchange, Andrew wonders aloud about the difference between them and ultimate chalks it up to luck; imagined-Versace chalks it up to being loved.
Stray observations
- “Descent” shows the rock bottom Andrew hit before going on the killing spree—though I’m not sure how much of a span this episode covers: weeks? Months?—eventually begging Norman to let him in, and then retreating back home where his mother bathes him. (Also eerie: “This is not your smell.”
- Choice line from Norman: “Being smart is useless unless it’s in the service or something.”
- Lee Miglin was at the party! Which feels a little too much like tying a neat little bow on connecting the men (Lee, David, Jeff, and Andrew all in one photo), but it was quick enough.
- “Who are you trying to be?” “Someone he can love.”
Andrew spirals out of control in a compelling American Crime Story
Tonight’s ‘Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Sees Andrew Cunanan Slowly Unravel
The Assassination of Giani Versace is back after a two-week hiatus, and Episode 6 delves into the not-quite-yet-murderous—but still utterly horrifying—Andrew Cunanan of 1995. Though he’s still repressing his violent urges at this point, Cunanan’s relentless thirst is on full display during his 26th birthday party in California, a lavish and deeply fraught affair that ends up marking the start of Andrew’s descent into violent madness.
Here are five talking points from tonight’s appropriately titled episode, “Descent.”
1) The opening moments emphasize the biggest fact vs. fiction divide in this show.
In brief: Andrew Cunanan’s physique. In Vulgar Favors, the book upon which this series is based, author Maureen Orth notes on several occasions that Cunanan gained a large amount of weight towards the end of his life. Unusual for a crystal meth user, he had a big appetite, and was apparently self-conscious about his body in contrast to the chiseled physique that was de rigueur in the gay community. Let’s just say that this is not the case with Darren Criss’s Cunanan, whose slammin’ bod has been on display in earlier episodes this season, and is highlighted in this week’s opening sequence.
Andrew arrives at a palatial house in California, strips naked and takes a swim in the pool. It’s the kind of ostentatiously luxurious setting in which he’s most at home—but of course, the house is not his. It belongs to Norman Blachford, the wealthy older man who allegedly “kept” and bankrolled Cunanan for several years before the murders. Though the real-life nature of Cunanan and Blachford’s relationship is still unknown to this day, American Crime Story posits them as a couple. On the show, Andrew tries to pretend he’s just Norman’s interior designer, and that he has his own apartment back in New York, but the truth behind their “arrangement” is clear to everyone who attends the party.
2) Despite being entirely murder-free, Andrew’s birthday party is the show’s most excruciating sequence yet.
Despite his involvement with Norman, Andrew still thinks he can have it both ways—he’ll keep the wealthy older companion to pay for his lifestyle, while also pursuing what he sees as true love with David. “He’s a future,” Andrew tells Lizzie of David, “and so far I’ve only dated the past.” He’s determined to win David, and in order to do that, he wants to transform himself into “someone David can love.” This sounds like a touching sentiment, until you remember that it’s coming from Andrew Cunanan.
Andrew’s version of being “someone David can love” turns out to mean peacocking— and he ropes poor Jeff Trail, who at this point is still a real friend, into playing along. He gives Jeff a lavish gift to give back to him at the party, which is one of the most obnoxiously extra moves I have ever seen on screen—not to mention rude as hell, since Jeff brought an actual gift—and also gives him a nicer pair of shoes to wear. Jeff draws the line at pretending to still be a naval officer, and later in the episode, he and Andrew come to blows over that postcard we heard about in Episode 4, with Jeff openly accusing Andrew of trying to out him.
Andrew’s lies are beginning to catch up with him and clash with each other, and the party sequence culminates with a photograph that really sums up this messy collision of Andrew’s two worlds. On one side of Andrew, Norman and Lee Miglin; on the other, David and Jeff, who have only just met but have already struck up a warm, easy rapport that’s infuriating Andrew. “It’s everyone I love in one photo!” Andrew coos, but there’s a manic glint in his eyes from this point on, and it never really goes away.
3) Norman’s friend David is having none of Andrew’s nonsense.
And it’s deeply enjoyable to watch. This David sees through Andrew from minute one of the party, and it’s clear from their interaction that their mutual dislike goes back some way. David sees Andrew as the opportunist he is, taking advantage of Norman in a vulnerable moment following the death of Norman’s longtime partner from AIDS.
“What a volatile mix you are,” David tells Andrew, in one of several catty, telling, exchanges. “Too lazy to work, and too proud to be kept.” That line lays the groundwork for Norman and Andrew’s eventual separation, which comes after Andrew presents a list of absurd demands to Norman in exchange for continuing their relationship. By now, Norman has looked into Andrew enough to figure out that “Andrew De Silva” is an alias, and just about everything he’s ever said about his past is a lie.
What’s amazing, though, is that all this lying isn’t a deal-breaker for Norman—he’s willing to overlook it. What he’s not willing to overlook is Andrew’s laziness, and when he offers to pay for Andrew to go back to college and finish his degree, it prompts a rare moment of honesty. “What is it about education and work that you find so insulting?” asks Norman, to which Andrew spits, “It’s ordinary!” They’re at a stalemate, and so Andrew smashes a glass table and storms out with the admittedly fabulous closing line “I expect you to call.” Spoiler: Norman will not call.
4) There was, at one point, the possibility of something real between Andrew and David.
Thanks to the show’s reverse chronology, the history of these relationships is deliberately ambiguous, and so it hasn’t been clear up until now whether Andrew’s obsession with David is fully delusional, or whether it sprung from something real. But “Descent” suggests that it’s the latter. Andrew makes yet another desperate grand gesture, flying David first-class to California for a spontaneous getaway at a luxury hotel, and though David is clearly on his guard, he still seems somewhat genuinely charmed.
“I wanted to see if we could take the next step,” he admits to Andrew, but tells him that their first night together in San Francisco—a meeting we’re yet to see onscreen—meant more to Andrew than it did to David. “I get the feeling you don’t have that many great nights with people,” David says, with real empathy. “So when you do, it feels huge.”
Andrew insists he’s willing to do anything if David will give their relationship a chance, so David calls his bluff and asks him to tell the truth. “Get rid of all this,” he says, moving them away from the lavish three-course room service dinner and earnestly asking Andrew to give him a genuine response for once.
And for a few seconds, it feels like Andrew might actually do it. He begins to tell what seems to be truth about his father, a stockbroker for Merrill Lynch who has now returned to the Philippines. But then the truth gives way to a lie, and David gets visibly sadder and angrier as the lies keep coming. As it turns out, telling the truth about himself is the one thing Andrew won’t do, even for David.
5) Andrew Cunanan and Gianni Versace meet again.
In a crystal meth-fueled dream sequence after his getaway with David falls apart, Andrew visits Versace’s store, where Gianni himself is waiting to serve him. Bathed in hellish red lighting, Andrew complains about how many people have taken and taken from him, and how “this world has wasted me, while it has turned you, Mr. Versace, into a star.”
Dream Gianni is calmly taking Andrew’s measurements through this rant, but when Andrew tries to draw a parallel between their lives, he has to object. “You think you’re better than me, but we’re the same,“ Andrew says. "The only difference is you got lucky.” Gianni’s reply cuts right to the heart of everything that drives Andrew’s rage: “Not the only difference, sir. I’m loved.”
What’s interesting about this is it’s an overt dream sequence, but Gianni and Andrew’s opera date in the first episode can also be interpreted as a dream—even Darren Criss himself is not convinced it wasn’t. “As we were shooting it, I was like, Is this just in Andrew’s head?” he told Esquire. “We don’t know! The grandeur of the show in general is almost like a machination of Andrew’s brain. There’s a beauty and a color and a sweeping, operatic feel to the show that feels like we’re seeing it through the eyes of an unreliable narrator.”
6) Andrew’s visit to his mother is a sad, scary interlude that hints at the upbringing that shaped him.
On the one hand, Andrew’s mother is clearly devoted to him—she’s ecstatic to see him, and bathes him while singing an Italian lullaby, a sequence that’s simultaneously moving and creepy. On the other, though, her love seems extremely conditional on Andrew’s success. Everything she says to him, almost without exception, is about his “accomplishments,“ which are, of course, pure fiction. She’s particularly thrilled that Andrew is traveling the world with Gianni Versace designing costumes for operas. She’s so preoccupied with his success that she’s not actually listening to him at all, and chooses not to notice that he’s clearly in crisis; when he says outright that he’s unhappy, she acts as though he hasn’t spoken. As it turns out, this visit to his mother’s house came right before Andrew’s visit to Minneapolis, where his murder spree began. “They have an opera house in Minneapolis?” his mom asks, sunnily, and in a truly great line delivery from Criss, Andrew replies: “No, mom. I don’t think they do.”
Tonight’s ‘Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Sees Andrew Cunanan Slowly Unravel
American Crime Story: Versace Season 1 Episode 6 Review: Descent
So, I’m just going to put this out there right away: I was not a fan of this episode.
From Lee Miglin’s death, to Jeff Trail and David Madson, I’ve been completely engrossed in the show’s expedition into the past. But I was officially lost this week and not in the least bit intrigued.
Perhaps I’m in the minority though? Maybe you thoroughly enjoyed yet another peek into the fantastical, make believe world that Andrew Cunanan exists in. Maybe you thought American Crime Story: Versace Season 1 Episode 6 was a good way of culminating this part of the story.
I would have to wholeheartedly disagree with that assessment.
Let’s begin with this birthday party. Jumping back in time to a year before his murder spree, Andrew seems to be living the dream. He’s staying in a breathtaking mansion in California and getting ready for his birthday party.
And who’s throwing this swanky affair? Norman Blanchard. Oh, Norman. It’s pretty clear from the onset that Andrew doesn’t just work for Norman. These two are tied together, but it’s hard to tell at first if they’re tied together physically, emotionally or both.
It turns out that for Andrew, his tie to Norman is purely financial.
We’ve seen over the weeks that Andrew not only thinks very highly of himself, but he also believes he’s owed something from the world. He’s as narcissistic as narcissistic gets.
The way he approaches Norman with all his outlandish demands is incredibly insulting. And Norman just sort of takes it, but not before letting Andrew know that he’s no dummy.
You’ve made a beautiful home. I want you to be happy, I really do. And I don’t mind that you tell a few lies to smooth over the discomfort of this arrangement. Hell, I can allow you all of the lies that you want. Except for one. That I’m a fool.
I wanted to like Norman but I honestly felt nothing. He was a lonely older man who was trying to help Andrew, but also enabling him in many ways. Andrew throwing a hissy fit and escaping that situation was a blessing for him.
So anyway let’s circle back to the party, where Jeff and David meet for the first time and Lee Miglin makes a very awkward appearance.
Andrew has this fixation on David that we’ve seen in prior episodes, but it’s on full display here. To go through the effort of buying and wrapping a gift for yourself and then basically forcing your friend to present it to you, just to show some guy your friends like you is beyond weird.
Jeff handles the situation well because Jeff is a decent human being who does seem to care about him. David also seems to care for Andrew but not nearly as much as he cares about him.
Andrew: I need to get back to my party. That room is full of people that love me.
Gallo: Then that room is full of people that don’t know you.The party is odd and an eclectic mixture of people, as it seems as if most of these people are just there because Norman knows how to throw a party. When Andrew hops in a picture with Norman, Lee, Jeff and David and declares them all the people that love him, it’s single-handedly one of the most awkward and chillingly sad moments of the series.
We get a small taste of the falling out between Jeff and Andrew and it’s not only just about the postcard, but Andrew’s jealousy. There’s an ease about Jeff that easy to fall for and Andrew’s worst fear is that with Jeff and David in the same city, David will soon fall for Jeff and suddenly he’s the outsider seeing his two “best” friends fall in love.
Andrew being Andrew, he thinks the way to David’s heart is through money. Poor David is very clearly not buying anything that Andrew is selling but he goes along with it until he just can’t anymore.
But even knowing that he isn’t in the same place as Andrew, David decides to give him a chance. David is inherently good. That much we’ve clearly seen over the past few episodes. But he’s never better than when he sits pensively and listens to Andrew spin yet another tale about a childhood that just never existed.
Everything that follows the impromptu LA trip is a disaster.
Tiring of cocaine, Andrew goes for something a little harder and hits rock bottom. And rock bottom is not begging outside of Norman’s house.
Rock bottom is the home of Mrs. Cunanan.
It’s very apparent that Andrew must have had one hell of a childhood with a mother like that. She’s a doting mother and an affectionate woman, but it’s all rooted in this belief that somehow her son is better than others. Her son is a star. She has the ‘maybe we didn’t have much growing up, but my son made it!’ type of attitude.
And that’s an okay attitude to have when it’s rooted in reality.
At this point in time, Andrew is a shell of himself. Gone is the macho bravado and confidence. Instead he’s defeated and forced to rely on the one person he knows has some kind of love for him.
The only word I can think of to describe their interaction is depressing. When your own mother brushes off your pleas for help to continue convincing herself that you’re better than the bitchy neighbors kid, you realize you’re truly alone in the world.
What did you guys think of ‘Descent’? What are you hoping to see over the last few installments? Do you miss the Versace storylines?
Editor’s Rating:★★★☆☆
American Crime Story: Versace Season 1 Episode 6 Review: Descent
Ricky Martin praised for his acting in The Assassination of Gianni Versace
In the first episode, Ricky’s Antonio took on a major role in the show, as he was quizzed about his relationship with Gianni, including their sexual relationship, while he is covered in his blood.
Antonion is also seen having a frosty relationship with his sister, Donatella.
Known for his catchy pop hits, including She Bangs and Livin’ La Vida Loca, the dramatic turn was a surprise welcomed by fans, who praised him for his portrayal of the grieving lover.
“Wow. #AmericanCrimeStory had a great first episode and really set the tone. And who knew Ricky Martin could act?! #GianniVersace #90sforever” wrote one fan.
Another wrote: “Ricky Martin is frigging AMAZING in #Versace. I assume he’s up for awards just based upon the first episode.”
While another couldn’t help but add: “If nothing else, I’m delighted to see Ricky Martin! I’m not expecting a chorus of She Bangs but if it can happen….. #AmericanCrimeStory”
A fourth simply wrote: Who knew Ricky Martin could act?
Meanwhile, a second strand of tonight’s episode followed serial killer Andrew Cunanan, 27, played by Darren Criss.
Cunanan had already killed four men in the US when he gunned down 50-year-old Versace on the steps of his Miami home.
The drama is based on a 1997 book by journalist Maureen Orth, who spoke to witnesses claiming Versace met his killer Cunanan in San Francisco nightspot Colossus in 1990.
Penelope Cruz plays his sister Donatella, who gained the keys to his fashion empire after his death.
Meanwhile, the real life Versace family have slammed the producers of the show, including creator Ryan Murphy, for going ahead with the production – claiming that the book it was based on was a “work of fiction” and denied any involvement.
The statement read: “As we have said, the Versace family has neither authorized nor had any involvement whatsoever in the forthcoming TV series about the death of Mr. Gianni Versace, which should only be considered as a work of fiction.
"The company producing the series claims it is relying on a book by Maureen Orth, but the Orth book itself is full of gossip and speculation. Orth never received any information from the Versace family and she has no basis to make claims about the intimate personal life of Gianni Versace or other family members.
“Instead, in her effort to create a sensational story, she presents second-hand hearsay that is full of contradictions.”
At the end of each episode, a title card has been put in place that reads: “This series is inspired by true events and investigative reports. Some events are combined or imagined for dramatic and interpretive purposes.
“Dialogue is imagined to be consistent with these events.”
Ricky Martin praised for his acting in The Assassination of Gianni Versace
Versace: Andrew Cunanan’s Relationship with Norman Blachford
There was a brief time between 1994 and 1996 when Andrew Cunanan was living the gilded life of luxury he had long envisioned for himself. As a man of minimal work ethic, though, the route he took to richness was a shortcut—existing as the paid companion of Norman Blachford, a socialite who made his money in sound-abatement equipment. According to reports, Blachford was not Cunanan’s first sugar daddy. He had a darker distinction—being the last benefactor before Cunanan began the downward trajectory that would conclude with his multi-state murder spree.
As Vanity Fair contributor Maureen Orth reported in Vulgar Favors: the Assassination of Gianni Versace, on which the current season of American Crime Story is based, Cunanan met Blachford in 1994—shortly after Blachford, then 58, lost his partner of over 25 years to AIDS. “Norman was alone and very eligible,” wrote Orth. And Cunanan, well, “Andrew did his homework,” according to a San Diego restauranteur who spoke to Orth for a report that ran in Vanity Fair. “He would investigate older, wealthy gay men who didn’t have families, and he would place himself in those circles. And that was his living.”
“Andrew had his own rise,” explained American Crime Story writer Tom Rob Smith. “He found these various, wealthy older men to live with. He ended up in a multi-million-dollar condo in La Jolla—this beautiful paradise. He was given an allowance and traveling to the South of France. And he throws it all away—he can’t tolerate the notion that he is a kept man.”
Indeed, in Wednesday’s episode, “Descent,” a friend of Blachford’s astutely tells Cunanan, “What a volatile mix you are: too lazy to work and too proud to be kept.”
The irony of Cunanan’s commitment to being kept is that he worked hard to be considered “a jewel in the crown of La Jolla’s closeted society”—according to a source for The Washington Post. The same friend alleged that Cunanan could “hold a conversation on nearly anything—politics, antiques, wines, Elton John. If an older man was interested in orchids, Cunanan would go out and buy every book available on orchids and plants and soon he would be talking about the subject as if he had studied it all of his life.” He ensured that he was cultured—visiting the opera, museums, and society events—and he studied the interests of eligible men as though he was preparing for a test.
Speaking to Vanity Fair, Smith made an important distinction about Cunanan’s motivations.
“I think it’s wrong to think of him as the ‘Talented Mr. Ripley,’ [the cutthroat, scheming character Patricia Highsmith created],” Smith said. “Mr. Ripley is someone who is always hustling and is aware that he’s angling things… . I think Andrew thought he was a husband or a partner in his own right. I don’t think he understood that he was a hustler, otherwise he would’ve been happy with his lot.”
“Descent” provides a snapshot of Cunanan at the moment he should have been satisfied. He had found Blachford, a man who reportedly provided him a monthly allowance of $2,500; a brand-new Infiniti; trips to New York to see Broadway shows; international vacations; access to credit cards; and a front-row seat in his high-society circle. He had been able to convince Blachford to sell his property in Scottsdale, Arizona—as he told his friends, he disliked the climate and allergies he suffered in Arizona—and eventually upgrade the La Jolla home to a handsome property atop Mount Soledad, overlooking the bay. He finally had found the means to live the illusion he had been spinning. In his mind, though, Cunanan deserved more.
According to Orth’s reporting, Cunanan complained to friends about Blachford’s cheapness, and suggested that he was actually doing Blachford a favor by being his companion—alleging that the relationship disqualified him from a (fictional) large family inheritance. Cunanan was restless, and according to a report in New York Magazine, by the time the couple made it to Southampton for a week in the summer of 1996, “Cunanan struck out several nights on his own and popped up at a round of gay house parties, introducing himself as ‘Andrew DeSilva.’ To exacting South Fork playboys, his act was pretty transparent. ‘He was a flaccid conversationalist, and there was nothing really distinctive about him at all,’ says the man who put Cunanan and Blachford up at his house. ‘Every other word from his mouth was about how rich his father had been in La Jolla.’ ”
Blachford was able to look past Cunanan’s obvious tall tales, and see his potential. Blachford encouraged Cunanan to go back to school, but Cunanan would not have it. Cunanan’s ego had inflated to fit his grandiose illusions. When the couple returned from their vacation in 1996, Cunanan threatened to leave Blachford if he did not buy him a $125,000 Mercedes convertible; fly him first-class; raise his allowance; and write him into Blachford’s will. In “Descent,” when Blachford refuses to acquiesce to the demands, Cunanan packs his bags, expecting Blachford to beg him to return. Blachford does not, though. And Cunanan, having miscalculated, finds himself in free fall. Not only is he suddenly without a benefactor, but he is without a lifestyle and a love interest. (Though the American Crime Story episodes paint a hazy timeline, David Madson had pulled away from Cunanan by this point because of his secrecy.)
“Andrew’s descent is that [after the breakup with Blachford] he moves into a small apartment in Hillcrest and descends into crystal meth until he’s lost everything,” explained Smith, who notes that in next week’s episode, viewers will see how Cunanan’s fall from grace mirrors his fathers.
“Whereas his dad flees to Manila and restarts, Andrew has nowhere left to go … [so] he goes to Minneapolis and has a breakdown,” said Smith. “When you look at the shapes of [Cunanan and his father’s] lives, that, to me, was absolutely the key of Andrew. As a child, Andrew absolutely believed his dad’s lies and that he was this amazing man. And then suddenly that was all ripped away [when his father left the family].”
In “Descent,” Smith wrote a brief exchange that cuts through the complex psychological saga of this serial murderer with ice-cold precision. At Cunanan’s 36th birthday party, he is cornered by a skeptical friend of Blachford’s who sees through Cunanan’s duplicitousness. When the friend insults him, Cunanan replies by pointing to the party guests in the next room, saying, “That room is full of people that love me.”
Without hesitation, the friend replies, “Then that room is full of people who don’t know you.” And for a split second, before shifting back into delusion autopilot, even Cunanan seems to agree.
Versace: Andrew Cunanan’s Relationship with Norman Blachford
American Crime Story: Gianni Versace Season 2 Episode 6 Review & Reaction | AfterBuzz TV
Hosts discuss American Crime Story for the episode “Descent.” | 28 February 2018