Tag: january 2018
Episode 2 of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story draws in 1.424 million viewers with a 0.41 in the 18-49 demographic
The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story Episode 2 “Manhunt” Review
Episode 2, “Manhunt”, of FX’s ‘American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ from creator Ryan Murphy aired last night starring Edgar Ramirez, Penelope Cruz, Darren Criss and Ricky Martin. This is Murphy’s second foray into a true crime story fresh on the heels of the success of ‘American Crime Story: The People vs O.J. Simpson’. The show focuses on the murder of Gianni Versace as it turns the eyes of the world onto Miami Beach. | 25 January 2018
Dancing to Phil Collins With Duct Tape: The Patrick Bateman/Andrew Cunanan Connection
As we enter further into the psychotic, drug-addled brain of Andrew Cunanan with each new episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace, one can’t help but find some rather overt parallels between the man of many masks and the ultimate authority on masks (both metaphorical and skin care-related), Patrick Bateman. The second segment in the eight-part series, “Manhunt,” flashes back and forth between the week leading up to Versace’s killing, as well as giving us some insight into Versace’s near brush with death in early 1994 as a result of being HIV positive–though at the time, it was billed as ear cancer, and, to this day, Donatella maintains that’s all it was.
Of course, one can’t have engaged in the type of high-risk sexual behavior that Versace and boyfriend Antonio D’Amico did without the high plausibility of contracting the still rampant disease. In what turned out to be many yin and yang foils between Cunanan and Versace, Cunanan was not HIV positive at the time of his death, had so much more technical reason to go on living his healthy life than Versace, a person who celebrated the beauty of existence and all of its details to the very end. An aesthetic man whose designs were rooted in joyousness, his fights with Donatella about shaking up the brand were legendary. This element is also explored in “Manhunt,” in a scene of Versace at the final fashion show in Paris he would put on before his assassination. With Donatella insisting that he open himself up to some of the popular trends of the moment (what with everyone taking more notice of Galliano and McQueen at the time), Versace rebuffs her offering of models who look “ill”–as though they enjoy nothing about life, which they probably don’t.
Looming in the background of it all is Cunanan, biding his time at a shitty hotel that at least has an ocean view. As he continues his endless search for a drug fix, he hones in on HIV positive Ronnie (Max Greenfield), based on a real life person Maureen Orth featured in the biography the show is based on. And since most of the pleasure Cunanan derives from life is in telling elaborate lies to get people to trust and like him, Ronnie seems to be a perfectly adequate way to pass the time as he waits for his moment, casing Versace’s villa and taking a series of photos of it with a disposable camera (just one of many reasons to yearn for the 90s).
Keeping his predatory skills sharp, Ronnie accompanies Cunanan to the beach where he targets an older man he can hustle who then takes him back to his hotel room. It is in this disturbing, duct tape-filled scene that we are given the strongest echoes of Bateman, in the now iconic moments leading up to his murder of Paul Allen (Jared Leto) to the tune of Huey Lewis and the News’ “Hip To Be Square.” Similarly, Cunanan puts on Phil Collins’ “Easy Love” after wrapping the older man’s entire face in duct tape and then dancing about with stoically and controlled gleeful abandon. Bateman, too, has an appreciation of Collins, giving an entire spiel about how much better his solo work is from Genesis.
Each man’s tendency to calmly explain and/or dance to their squirming, terrified victim speaks to the fractured emotional mechanism in their brain. Sure, they’re aware of the abstraction of what pain is, but it’s become so dulled that their need to inflict it on others is, in turn, how they can finally experience some level of sentience. At one point, Bateman himself remarks, “My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape.” It’s as though Cunanan’s own monologues have been ripped from the very pages and frames of Bret Easton Ellis’ and Mary Harron’s character, respectively.
As Ronnie starts to suspect that Cunanan is deeply disturbed upon seeing him with duct tape put over his own face before taking a shower (David Hockney would approve), Ronnie asks, “What have you done?” Cunanan snaps, “Nothing. I’ve done nothing. My whole life I can honestly say I’ve done nothing.” It is this feeling of inadequacy in spite of having all the intelligence and talent (in his mind) to have done something great, to have reached the level of fame and respect that Versace has, that plagues him. And, desiring a release of that agony of being a cipher–like Bateman–he must kill. Music just happens to be an integral part of that sadism. That the show’s soundtrack has thus far been drenched in dance cuts of the time (even the late 80s club staple “Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)” by Soul II Soul) means we’re going to get even more ominous song associations with Cunanan (Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” is already definitely ruined).
Below is the much more sinister, in my opinion, “Cockiness (I Love It)” by Rihanna synced up to Darren Criss’ Golden Globes-worthy clip, followed by the original “Easy Love” by Phil Collins one. In both auditory cases, Patrick Bateman has some serious competition.
Dancing to Phil Collins With Duct Tape: The Patrick Bateman/Andrew Cunanan Connection
MTV: .@DarrenCriss discusses how working with @MrRPMurphy on #ACSVersace is far different than his experience working with him on #Glee.
https://ia601500.us.archive.org/15/items/PPY9921124633_201801/PPY9921124633.mp3?plead=please-dont-download-this-or-our-lawyers-wont-let-us-host-audio
https://acsversace-news.tumblr.com/post/170123061914/audio_player_iframe/acsversace-news/tumblr_p34mrtdjD81wcyxsb?audio_file=https%3A%2F%2Fia601500.us.archive.org%2F15%2Fitems%2FPPY9921124633_201801%2FPPY9921124633.mp3
Joanna Robinson and Richard Lawson discuss the second of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, directed by Nelson Cragg. This week’s featured interview is Emmy nominated actor Max Greenfield who discusses portraying Ronnie in the series and his research into the HIV positive community.
Inside Gianni Versace’s Final Fashion Show and the Battle With Sister Donatella
Just nine days before Gianni Versace was fatally shot outside his Miami mansion, the designer had been in Paris, debuting his haute-couture fall-winter collection in extravagant style at the Ritz. Models including Naomi Campbell, Amber Valletta, and Stella Tennant, dressed in body-clinging chain mail and silk jersey gowns, descended from a double staircase and strutted down a glass catwalk that had been erected theatrically over the neoclassic swimming pool.
The second episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, “Manhunt,” flashes back to Versace’s last fashion show, revealing the creative tensions simmering between the designer and his sister shortly before his death. According to one biographer, however, the stress-filled showdown hours before the fashion show was even more volcanic than what’s being shown on television.
As depicted on American Crime Story, the siblings clashed backstage over the women they wanted showcasing the collection. Donatella had booked models with skinny, “heroin-chic” builds—including Karen Elson, the fair-skinned, flame-haired up-and-comer Donatella selected to wear the collection’s climactic piece: the wedding dress.
Archival photos on Getty show Elson in the Versace atelier being fitted with the piece—a slinky, metallic-silver baby-doll dress, accessorized with a veil emblazoned with a silver Byzantine cross. But on the show day, the collection’s marquee piece was reassigned to a proven supermodel and Gianni favorite, Naomi Campbell.
“Gianni never liked [Elson],” explained Deborah Ball in her 2010 book, House of Versace: The Untold Story of Genius, Murder, and Survival. “‘Why are you so pale?’ he used to demand of Elson, in Italian. The British girl looked blankly at him. ‘Why don’t you go get some sun?’”
Ball reported that, during rehearsals the day before the show, Gianni erupted in front of his sister and Elson, who had never before walked a runway.
“He bristled as he watched Elson nervously descend the stairs and walk the runway. Gianni didn’t like her lopey, horselike gait, and he raged at Donatella for having suggested the girl in the first place. So he substituted Naomi, who did him proud as she sauntered by in the wedding dress […] Elson burst into a fit of tears, while Donatella wore a stony look on her face. Gianni’s ruling showed he didn’t trust her with key decisions.”
(Elson, who returned to the Paris runway for another Versace couture collection in 2016, diplomatically told Vogue that year, “I remember [Gianni] being very tender and sweet to me. It was daunting, as every supermodel on the planet was there and I was the ‘new girl’ at school, so to speak.”)
Clashing was nothing new for the Italian siblings. Earlier in 1997, Donatella’s husband at the time, Paul Beck, told Vanity Fair contributor Cathy Horyn that it took him five years to get used to the “Versace verbal dynamic.”
“I thought somebody was going to kill someone,” Beck said of witnessing their first fight. “I had to leave the room … And the argument would be over something like where to put the sweaters in the new boutique on Via Monte Napoleone.”
But as the tensions escalated within the Versace empire, so did the fights. Gianni had long been the creative genius and workhorse behind the fashion house, counting on Donatella as his muse and critic. For Donatella, who was more of a brand ambassador in those days, her ability to stand up to Gianni was part of her value.
“I thought of myself as the one who really was able to tell Gianni the truth, because with a big designer, nobody is able,” Donatella told New York magazine. “That’s the big threat for a big designer.”
As Vanity Fair contributor Maureen Orth wrote in her book Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History, Donatella stepped up to help manage the company when Gianni fell ill in 1994, and was being groomed to take over the fashion house. The relationship fractured unexpectedly when Gianni recovered several years later and attempted to reclaim his position.
“We know that Gianni was very, very sick in 1994—he was struggling to walk to the news stand in Miami,” explained Tom Rob Smith, who wrote Wednesday’s episode. “He was working closely with Donatella to [prepare her] to take over the company. There was this real sense that she was his heir, and then, unexpectedly, he gets better. That is a very tricky situation for anyone—if you’re about to be given control of something and then that control is suddenly modulated.”
Gianni and Donatella “acknowledged friction during the winter and spring of 1996, when Gianni disagreed with her choices for an advertising campaign and she seemed to overstep her bounds,” reported Orth in her book, which is the basis for the FX series. The siblings were struggling to find a power balance and share footing in the spotlight. Ball claimed that Gianni’s decision to change his will in September 1996—leaving his shares of the company to his niece Allegra, rather than his brother or sister—was done in secret and fueled by his frustration and resentment towards his siblings.
“That tension you see in the final fashion show … You feel like Donatella felt she was no longer subservient to her brother,” continued Smith. “She was his equal. It’s hard in those creative industries to have parity. Someone ultimately has to make the final decision. So you start splitting everything up—you could have some models, and he could have other models. They had different styling on the models and different ideas. It didn’t really coalesce as well as a singular vision might have.”
The aesthetic disparity between brother and sister Versace was so apparent during this particular runway show that American Crime Story costume designer Lou Eyrich told Vanity Fair that she took special care to craft a dozen looks for the series that represented Gianni and Donatella’s different ideals.
“Gianni had a more colorful look, so the creams and the pinks and the yellows and the reds were Gianni,” Eyrich explained of the costumes she attributed to Gianni. “Donatella’s models, meanwhile, were more waif, heroin-chic models who wear all black and had the heavy eye makeup. It was important to show the difference between the designers’ visions at the time.”
In spite of the tensions simmering behind the scenes, Versace’s final fashion show was widely praised. Even though the house faced fresh competition from flashy rivals like John Galliano and Alexander McQueen, Versace got first billing in the Associated Press’s write-up: “Gianni Versace reigned supreme with his ‘King of the Night’ pool runway.” Joan Kaner, then the fashion director of Neiman Marcus, was quoted as calling the collection “terrific, sexy, and modern.” The New York Times, meanwhile, acknowledged the disjointed feel of the collection, writing, “for every dress that took the idea too far, there was one where the idea worked.”
“When Gianni died, things were unresolved with Donatella, and how awful must that have been for her,” added Smith. “For Gianni to die and to think, ‘What were we even fighting about? Models?’ It was utterly trivial.”
Indeed, Donatella has said in the years since her brother’s death, “My brother was the king, and my whole world had crashed around me.”
By 2012, though, 15 years after the murder, Donatella had found the strength to keep her family’s company afloat and develop her own identity as a designer. She was finally able to look back at the defining details of her brother’s final collection—the ones that she hadn’t necessarily liked at the time: the Byzantine crosses he applied to his dresses and the slinky silver-metal mesh he had specially created—and incorporate them into her 2012 fall-winter collection.
Speaking to The New York Times about finally having “the courage” to face and find inspiration in Gianni’s final fashion show, Donatella said, “I can look at it now with a smile … I remember my last moments with Gianni, the rehearsal, the show. But finally I have freedom. I am not afraid.”
To find out more about the true Versace story, the series itself, and everything between the two, subscribe to Still Watching: Versace on Apple Podcasts or your podcast app of choice. New episodes, including behind-the-scenes interviews, air every Wednesday.
Inside Gianni Versace’s Final Fashion Show and the Battle With Sister Donatella
‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 2 Recap: Light Is the Left Hand of Darkness
If you thought the saintlike halo surrounding the title character in The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story‘s premiere was striking, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Not to get all Manchurian Candidate about it, because there’s no reason to believe writer Tom Rob Smith’s take on the designer is anything but sincere. But based on “Manhunt,” the riveting, rhapsodic, terrifying second episode, it’s safe to say Gianni Versace is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I’ve ever known in my life, which makes the hour’s ever-deeper plunge into the abyssal psyche of his murderer — the “white guy who killed four white guys,” as a witness who nearly helps nab him (inaccurately) describes him — all the more frightening to endure.
When the episode opens, Gianni has been stricken with what appears to be but is never referred to explicitly as HIV/AIDS — the real-life Versace family’s principal objection to the series and to reporter Maureen Orth’s Vulgar Favors, the book on which it’s based. He does not push away his partner Antonio for initiating him into the rollicking open relationship that likely exposed him to the virus, even as his sister Donatella blames the younger man for Gianni’s illness. (Their exchange includes some dynamite dialogue sure to be quoted far and wide: “I am not a villain, and he is not a saint.” “My brother has a weakness for beauty. He forgives it anything. But I am not my brother.”) In fact, Gianni quite literally leans on his boyfriend of many years for support when he’s too weak to walk by himself. The sickness’s main effect on him is to dull his creative impulse, because, simply put, he cannot create when he’s sad.
And when he rebounds thanks to the era’s miracle drugs, he’s like a man reborn. He bucks the era’s trends towards scary-skinny models (“They look ill,” he says, perhaps recalling the emaciation of HIV sufferers who weren’t so lucky) and just plain scary designs, arguing that strength, health, and joy are precisely what his clothes are meant to highlight and celebrate in the women who wear it. He challenges his skeptical sister Donatella to a design-off, pitting his bright and buoyant designs against her severe and on-trend approach, and wins over a fashion-show crowd dulled into quiescence by Donatella…but because they love and respect each other so much, Donatella seems legitimately happy his philosophy came out on top, and he certainly does nothing to rub his victory in her face. You can dig on the terrific music cue for the runway scene, the Lightning Seeds’ trip-hoppy Austin Powers soundtrack cover of the Turtles’ “You Showed Me”, or get a kick out of the cattiness involved in making real models’ names recognizable in the scene where Gianni calls out the vogue for emaciation (Shalom! Irina! Karen!), but mostly the effect is just to win us over the same way the designs won over the folks in the front row at the show.
The better angels of Versace’s nature don’t stop flying at the runway’s edge, either. When Antonio brings a guy back to their place for a threeway, Gianni’s too busy working to join in the fun, but he gives his partner his blessing to continue without him, and smiles with quiet delight at the sounds of pleasure coming from the man he loves in the background as he draws. When Antonio proposes, Versace gently rebuffs him, knowing that the younger man would chafe under the commitment but loving him no less for that. For God’s sake, Gianni is even nice to the Donatella impersonator who tries, not for the first time apparently, to crash his compound while Andrew stakes it out! I don’t know if there’s a word in Italian that covers all the connotations of mensch, but Versace is that to a tee.
Compare the love on Gianni’s side of this episode’s ledger to the fear, hate, and horror on Andrew’s. Just two episodes into the series, Darren Criss is cementing the status of his portrayal of Cunanan as one of the all-time great on-screen serial killers, not just calling to mind Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates, Tom Noonan as Francis Dolarhyde, Ted Levine as Jame Gumb, or Christian Bale as Patrick Bateman, but actually earning the comparisons.
He’s certainly helped in this respect by Smith’s script and the direction of People v. O.J. cinematographer Nelson Cragg. The reference set they assemble for Andrew to inhabit includes a genderbent shower scene by the beach with Andrew’s ersatz friend and escort manager Ronnie (a warm, wounded, marvelously understated Max Greenfield), combining Psycho‘s defining visual with the pre-shower/murder rapport between Norman and Marion Crane, not to mention its star Perkins’s closeted sexuality. (A motel also figures prominently, again with roles reversed: Andrew’s the guest on the run from the law, not the person at the front desk, and he must ingratiate himself to her instead of the other way around.)
Elsewhere, a scene of excruciating sadism, in which an underwear-clad Andrew dances to the Big ‘80s strains of Phil Collins and Philip Bailey’s pounding “Easy Lover” while an escort client slowly suffocates beneath the duct-tape mask Cuanan wrapped around his head (“You’re helpless…accept it…accept it…ACCEPT IT…”) drags the male-on-male-gaze subtext of Bret Easton Ellis and Mary Harron’s respective American Psychos squirming into the harsh Florida light. Simultaneously hitting Pulp Fiction‘s gimp sequence, Boogie Nights‘s “Sister Christian”/”Jesse’s Girl”/”99 Luftballoons” coke deal gone bad, and Silence of the Lambs‘ Buffalo Bill/”Goodbye Horses” buttons as well, this is a scene people will remember. (A closing scene in which Cunanan prefaces his usual torrent of bullshit about his life by straight-up saying “I’m a serial killer” to a prospective suitor also tears a page from the AP playbook.)
And in the most chilling allusion of all, Ronnie — a sweet guy who moved to Miami because he’d heard “people like living by the ocean who don’t have much living left,” then got unexpectedly healthy, and now dreams of opening up a small florist shop with the money he and Andrew have amassed from his escort gigs — knocks on the bathroom door and finds Andrew in full Manhunter Great Red Dragon mode on the other side, the top half of his face rendered obscure and inhuman by the duct tape he’d applied to himself. Because the context of each of these scenes is so specific to who Andrew and Ronnie are, none of it feels derivative or plagiaristic, the way the generic King/Carpenter/Spielberg rehash of Stranger Things does, for example. Indeed, it’s no different from the way it alludes to Christ telling Peter he’d deny him three times when Andrew tells Ronnie, who’s desperate for connection even as Cunanan flees, “When someone asks you if we were friends, you’ll say no.” As I’ve argued before, the horror genre exists in conversation with itself, and Versace is simply using the language established by its forebears to tell a story all its own.
Yet I think the episode’s two most moving and crushing moments don’t fit neatly in either category. The first involves Versace’s final repose: cremated, his ashes are placed in a bag monogrammed with a V, like everything else in the Versace empire. The gold box in which the bag of ashes is placed for transport back to Italy gets its own seat on the plane. Even in death, beauty and luxury are everything.
The second involves Andrew, making his getaway following the murder. After replacing his stolen car’s plates in a Wal-Mart parking lot — grinning like the cat who got the cream at the girl who spots him doing it, pleased beyond reckoning that he’s getting away with it — he drives down the highway with the windows down, blasting Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” and singing along at the top of his lungs while flubbing every other lyric. Contrasted with his petty glee at committing a crime in front of a little kid, this an utterly brutal portrait of forced happiness and feigned freedom. He’s going through the motions of every Brat Pack flick and Bonnie & Clyde knockoff he’s ever seen, but this brat has no pack, this Clyde has no Bonnie. He’s alone with his horror, and he can’t drown that out forever. How do the lyrics go? “I think you’re headed for a breakdown, so be careful not to show it.”
Is Gianni Versace Too Perfect on ‘American Crime Story’ Season 2?
The second episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace helped to explain why the fashion designer’s family objected to this series, opening with a scene heavily implying that Versace was HIV positive. However, the show’s debatable realness should also extend to the incredibly flattering portrayal of the man.
Through two episodes, Gianni Versace has been depicted as a nearly flawless, almost saintly human being (despite Antonio’s claim that he isn’t a saint). In the premiere we saw him stroll through Miami, greeting everyone he met and being treated like a benevolent king, adored by the local citizens.
As a fashion designer, he’s portrayed as a man whose only goal is to make women happy, shying away from praise or adoration and, instead, focused entirely on helping others feel beautiful. At a runway show, while Donatella begged him to be darker and more commercial, he embraced positivity, the joy of life, and even complained about the models being too thin.
Maybe that’s who Gianni Versace really was, a wonderful, nice, caring, loving man. But for the show, this doesn’t work dramatically. The character seems to be put on a pedestal, presented as the embodiment of all that is good. Thematically, this works well as a counterpoint to Andrew Cunanan, a character who despises reality and revels in disturbing behavior.
The problem, however, is that it makes Andrew’s obsession with Versace seem understandable. In the TV show, the two are polar opposites, depicted like Batman and the Joker, two characters who philosophies on society and humanity are at odds. This virtually excuses the fact that Andrew is simply a delusional sociopath with an unhealthy and unrealistic fixation on Versace.
Instead, the show tethers the two of them, thematically and, in the case of their first meeting in the premiere, literally. They become two halves of the same coin, light and dark, linked together. That feels more disrespectful to the Versace legacy than suggesting that he was HIV positive.
It also hurts the show’s attempts at realism. In certain moments, like the scenes involving the pawn shop owner, the show appears to be a true-crime docu-drama, depicting actual events in a straightforward, “Just the facts” kind of way. Yet when it comes to Versace and Cunanan, the show tries to be more poetic, exploring universal themes and overall psychological concepts rather than just portraying them as they really were.
The second season of American Crime Story wants to have it both ways. It wants to show the crimes as they really happened, like the first season did with the O.J. trial. But it also wants to indulge in the tortured psychology of a serial killer, embracing the more abstract notions that exist in the fashion world.
You can’t be realistic and dreamlike. And you can’t say that Gianni Versace is not a saint, but then portray him as flawless. The result is a jumbled and confusing story that doesn’t seem to have a clear idea of what it is.
Do you think the portrayal of Gianni Versace is a problem for the show?
Is Gianni Versace Too Perfect on ‘American Crime Story’ Season 2?