If there’s anything Ryan Murphy knows how to do, it is how to capture a specific time. In “The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story,” he focuses on the Italian designer’s murder in 1997 and the years leading up to it. Murphy takes the sensational ripped-from-the-headlines crime, like he did with “The People v. O.J. Simpson,” and broadens it to explore the prejudices surrounding the LGBTQ community and the emotional underpinnings of the AIDS crisis.
“New Girl” actor Max Greenfield plays Ronnie, a man who represents the fear many in the community lived with during the period, if not because of the virus, then of the lives they had to hide in plain sight. Ronnie is unknowingly tangled into the series of events when he meets killer Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) and forms a brief kinship.
amNewYork spoke with Greenfield about slipping into Ryan Murphy’s world for season two of “American Crime Story.”
You previously worked with Ryan Murphy on “American Horror Story.” What was it like to be directed by him again?
Ryan knows what he wants and is specific in the sense that he’ll give you a lot of room to explore and play with it. He’s very honest if you’re doing something he doesn’t like and you sort of have to be OK with that. You’re constantly making adjustments off notes, so I don’t think I’ve enjoyed working with someone as much as I’ve enjoyed working with Ryan, ever.
So you were given freedom to create texture for Ronnie, even though he’s not a fictional character?
Yeah, totally. In the period of time it was two years after they figured out the correct medication to treat HIV, so you have all these people who were affected by this disease, many of whom had accepted their own fate, and had for quite some time and were waiting to die. And then there was this treatment, and you saw patients that were extraordinarily sick better within 30 days.
Ronnie was one of those characters who had sort of given up on life and was then given a new lease. It was a complicated time for a lot of people. I know, specifically, that’s what I tried to focus on. So when he meets Andrew there’s a friendship. For somebody who is so completely on their own in Miami, living minute by minute, still confused and bewildered by everything that has happened over the past 15 years, to find any sort of friendship, was so important for him. He didn’t want to believe Andrew could’ve done something very harmful.
For the generation that’s coming up now, that period seems unfathomable. How did you tackle playing that specific window of time?
I did a lot of research. I do have some recollection, but certainly not to the degree that was necessary to understand it. I’m not sure I do now. You talk to people who were around during that time, specifically those in the LGBT community. The documentary “How to Survive a Plague” really tackles it well. Imagining these very human feelings is so overwhelming.
Gianni Versace is a brand to a lot of people. This story humanizes the designer. With that in mind, were you surprised by how this story unfolds?
Yeah, I didn’t know much about it. I was 17 years old at the time, so it was a headline for me. “Oh my Gosh, Gianni Versace was murdered? I can’t believe that!” And then you go to school the next day. I didn’t know Andrew’s back story and that this was one of five murders [he committed] or how deep it went.
What was the most gratifying thing about playing this character?
It was being a part of this story and the creation of Ryan’s world. Some of the things that this series talks about are really important issues. It’s hard for people to digest but I think it’s an important series. He’s not afraid to speak up and create content that addresses issues that people find uncomfortable.
Tag: january 2018
ACSFX: The Emmy-award winning limited series from Ryan Murphy returns. #ACSVersace
‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ preview: Ryan Murphy sidelines big names for rising stars
Premiering January 17 on FX, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is showrunner Ryan Murphy’s follow-up in the “American Crime Story” true crime anthology series to “The People v. O.J. Simpson.” That debut season two years ago won 10 Emmys, including three for acting, but not for big names Cuba Gooding Jr., David Schwimmer and John Travolta. It was instead career-redefining work by rising stars Sterling K. Brown, Sarah Paulson and Courtney B. Vance that lit up the awards circuit. “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” pulls that same bait-and-switch.
Oscar winner Penelope Cruz features heavily in marketing materials as Gianni Versace’s sister, but appears in just half of the eight episodes made available for the press to preview (out of nine total for the season). Between the second and seventh episodes, she has only one scene. Grammy winner Ricky Martin is similarly absent as Gianni’s boyfriend. Emmy nominee Edgar Ramirez has top billing in the eponymous role, but spends most of the first episode on a gurney and tallies only one more episode than Cruz and Martin — by cameoing in a dream sequence.
“The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is really the story of serial killer Andrew Cunanan, played by Darren Criss. Cunanan is the only character to appear in every episode, with the show working backward from 1997 through his life and murders. The first two episodes explore Cunanan’s connection to Versace, with subsequent episodes expanding on previous victims — with only random and sporadic asides to the Versace clan — and the eighth episode delving into Cunanan himself, going back to 1980 to depict his childhood.
This procedural approach provides excellent standalone acting showcases for guest stars Jon Jon Briones (episode 8), Mike Farrell (episode 3), Cody Fern(episode 4), Judith Light (episode 3) and Finn Wittrock (episode 5). Fern and Wittrock are in just as many episodes as main cast members Cruz and Martin, but their appearances fit more organically into the narrative. Wittrock has already been Emmy-nominated for a standout supporting performance in a Ryan Murphy anthology series — “American Horror Story: Freak Show” three years ago.
Criss also got his big break acting in television under Murphy, on “Glee,” later writing a song for its series finale, earning the musical its sole Emmy nomination for Best Original Music and Lyrics. A compulsive liar, charming manipulator and homicidal psychopath, Cunanan is the role of a lifetime and Criss is perfect casting, down to his half-Filipino background.
Emmy nominees for “M*A*S*H” and “Transparent” respectively, Mike Farrell and Judith Light play a married couple, but neither will be eligible for Emmy consideration because they do not appear in five percent of the total runtime of the season, a prerequisite for the Best Movie/Limited Supporting Acting categories after Ellen Burstyn was nominated for a 15-second cameo in the 2006 movie “Mrs. Harris.” Also worthy of recognition, yet ineligible is Max Greenfield, unrecognizable in the opening two Miami-set episodes as Cunanan’s short-term boyfriend. Greenfield is an Emmy nominee for the sitcom “New Girl” and was previously directed by Murphy on “American Horror Story: Hotel.”
‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ preview: Ryan Murphy sidelines big names for rising stars
The Assassination of Gianni Versace is a disturbing and constantly shifting true-crime thriller
“It was a political murder. It absolutely was. This was a person who targeted people specifically to shame them and to out them and to have a form of payback for a life that he felt he could not live.”
That’s Ryan Murphy, executive producer of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story (starts Wednesday, FX Canada, 10 p.m.). The nine-part series, which follows on Murphy’s extraordinary and award-winning The People v. O.J. Simpson, is a true-crime thriller of outstanding suppleness in storytelling.
In his remark about “political murder,” Murphy was responding to a quibble about the title. See, the series is really about Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss), who killed Versace and four other men. Much of it is about Cunanan scheming and lying his way into people’s lives and then murdering them. Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramirez) was just the famous one. It’s also about the hunt to find Cunanan, tracking his movements and the inept attempts to connect him to multiple crimes.
As such, the drama, which has some stunning visual opulence, has multiple themes and threads. It can be an agonizing, thrilling and disturbing thriller to watch. It opens with Versace beginning his day in his lavish Miami Beach mansion and switches to Cunanan loitering on the beach nearby, presented to us as a shady character with some unknowable but obviously dark intent on his mind. Then he shoots Versace on the steps of that mansion and flees.
From there, the drama shifts and turns constantly, but is never unintelligible in its twisting approach to the entire story. And entirety is what Murphy is aiming for. He also has two central themes – first, the assassination of Versace made Cunanan’s murders a celebrity story that left the other victims forgotten and, second, he nourishes the idea that lies and the putting on of masks are human actions that cover up a core duplicity at the heart of awful human frailty.
The series is essentially Cunanan’s story but we learn a great deal about Versace and his family. He is portrayed as an earnest craftsman who is mostly shy but, aware of his celebrity, given to an extrovert sexual ostentation that he kept hidden inside the closed world of his friends and lovers. There is also a mordant, underlying suggestion in the treatment of Versace’s private life – in 1997, it was still common for a gay man to keep much of his life hidden.
The structure of the storytelling means that the viewer first meets Cunanan’s victims when they are dead, and then goes back into his relationship with them and reveals exactly who they were. This isn’t conventional TV drama in the sense that empathy for a character is created and then the shock of their death at the hands of a madman is a tragic climax.
Instead, as in The People v. O.J. Simpson, Murphy is prodding and probing at the viewer’s casual assumptions about what they are seeing. It’s an unsettling but admirable approach. As Murphy has done before, he draws great performances from actors who might be considered lightweights. Actor and singer Criss, best known as the dreamboat Blaine Anderson on Glee, is remarkable as Cunanan, the preppie who has a deeply exaggerated self-importance and hides a murderer’s heart under his smiling, happy-to-meet-you surface. There is also a fabulous, deeply poignant performance by Mike Farrell, forever associated with his role on the series M*A*S*H, as the rich and closeted gay Chicago real estate developer Lee Miglin.
Miglin was actually Cunanan’s ideal lover – a rich older man who would finance the young man’s extravagant tastes. But Miglin became yet another victim of the killer’s rage and loathing of those more successful than him. Singer Ricky Martin, whose acting has so far been limited to a two-season sitcom and a soap opera, pulls off a powerful performance as Antonio D’Amico, Versace’s long-time companion. Penelope Cruz plays Versace’s sister, Donatella, as a steely protector of all things Versace after the assassination.
And one of the most important roles is given to Judith Light, who plays Lee Miglin’s wife, Marilyn, a woman whose stony denial of her husband’s sexuality, no matter what evidence is presented, is emblematic of an entire society’s denial that a gay culture exists.
Murphy brought in Tom Rob Smith (who wrote London Spy) to adapt Maureen Orth’s book, Vulgar Favors, about the Cunanan murders, for the series. The Versace family and company has complained, without seeing the series, that it distorts Gianni Versace’s life. They say Orth’s book is “full of gossip and speculation.” Orth was at the TV critics tour to endorse the series and defended the accuracy of the book. “I would say my sourcing in the book is 95 per cent or more on the record, and I talked to over 400 people, and so, so many things that you might think were made up are definitely not made up. They happened.”
Like The People v. O.J. Simpson and Feud: Bette and Joan, this new work from Murphy sets out not to revise history but to bring a fresh perspective to the recent past. In the case of the O.J. Simpson trial, Murphy’s point was to lay bare the impact of tabloid-TV journalism on the American justice system and to put O.J. Simpson’s status in the context of rampant racism in the Los Angeles police department. In Feud, he emphasized that great women actors are considered disposable and irrelevant at a certain age, both then – the 1960s – and now. Here, he’s laying bare the agonies of the closeted, hidden life that so many gay men endured as recently as the 1990s.
“The first American Crime Story was very much a courtroom potboiler,” Murphy says. “And we looked at sexism and racism. This second season is a manhunt thriller. We’re not glamorizing the Cunanan story, and we never want to do that. We deal with everybody who was affected, not just the people who were killed, but also the relatives, the siblings. What he did was very, very destructive, and the reason why he did it, I think, was the homophobia of the day. It still persists and that is something really topical.”
There are many striking scenes in The Assassination of Gianni Versace, some of them gorgeous and some troublingly sinister. But there is one scene that really lingers.
When Gianni Versace tells Donatella that he is going to admit publicly that he is gay, she is afraid the admission will kill the business, the brand. It didn’t. This fierce, richly layered drama series is about the one malignant, vengeful force that did, in the end, kill Versace, the man.
The Assassination of Gianni Versace is a disturbing and constantly shifting true-crime thriller
Into the Life of a Madman with “American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace” | Demanders | Roger Ebert
2016’s “American Crime Story: The People vs. OJ Simpson” was a television event, one of the most accomplished series of that entire year. With an incredible ensemble, creator Ryan Murphy proved he had yet another act in him after the popularity of his “American Horror Story” started to wane. Of course, people started asking about a follow-up before “People” was even over, and Murphy revealed that he was working on a version of “ACS” that would chronicle the disaster around Hurricane Katrina. On paper, it sounded like one of the most ambitious mini-series in TV history, and it may still be as it will now reportedly be the third season of Murphy’s creation. After having some trouble getting that one into production, Murphy rallied his collaborators and went to Florida, producing this week’s “American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace.” The result is a less sprawling, ambitious piece than we may have gotten in New Orleans (also when compared to season one) but it’s still an impressive drama, one that plays with themes that have fascinated Murphy throughout his career. Featuring less star power than “OJ” but a few stellar performances of its own, “Gianni Versace” will be a tougher sell to casual viewers, but those who go along for this journey into the world of a sociopath will be dramatically rewarded.
On July 15, 1997, Andrew Cunanan shot fashion legend Gianni Versace outside of his home in Miami, Florida. He was already on the FBI’s Most Wanted list at the time, having committed four other murders around the country on his way to Florida. After extensive investigations, a clear motive was never completely found, allowing Murphy and his writers to dive deep into Cunanan’s past with a bit of creative license.
We do know that Cunanan was a chameleon and a con artist. He would regularly change his appearance and tell people elaborate stories about his background and professions. Murphy captures him as someone obsessed with image but hollow on the inside, and he contrasts him with a designer who created imagery from his soul. “Assassination” is at its most ambitious when drawing these parallels about the power of reputation and image. Andrew says in episode six, “For me being told no is like being told I don’t exist.” She may be speaking about the success of the family fashion line but Donatella Versace practically echoes Andrew the next episode when she states, “We must be talked about or we are nothing.”
“The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is structured in a very daring way, even if I’m not yet 100% sure that structure adds anything thematically. It essentially travels backwards, episode by episode. So, we open with the murder of Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramirez) and the events that followed thereafter as the cops searched South Florida for Andrew, played by Darren Criss. As the season progresses, we see how Andrew and Gianni got here, like reading the chapters of a book in reverse. For example, episode three gets us to the murder of Lee Miglin, a Chicago power player who Andrew killed just before leaving for Florida. Episode four, the best of the eight sent for review, features Andrew and his unrequited love David Madson (the nearly show-stealing Cody Fern, a very-likely future star) on a nightmarish trip that would end in David’s death, just before Andrew went to Chicago to find Lee. And so on. By the time we get to episode eight, directed by Matt Bomer, we’re in Andrew’s childhood, learning about how his father’s behavior may have influenced his own. And this reverse journey finds time to intercut episodes of Gianni’s life, such as coming out to The Advocate with his partner Antonio D’Amico (Ricky Martin), or clashing with his sister Donatella (Penelope Cruz) about a business decision.
Narratively, a lot of “Gianni Versace” rests on the shoulders of Criss, and he doesn’t always carry the weight. Playing a rage-filled, morally hollow character like Andrew Cunanan would be difficult for any actor, but there’s an inconsistency to this performance, especially in the early episodes. Again, I’m not sure the reverse chronology helps the entire production other than by the time we see Andrew in episode four speaking to Jeff Trail and David Madson, we know he’s insane. However, it creates a disjointed timeline overall, which makes the character harder to understand or for Criss to play. And it leads to the feeling that the overall thematic cohesion of the piece is just out of reach. So while there are plenty of great moments, scenes, even episodes to recommend, I’m not sure it all ties together.
Ultimately, watching “American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is a series of very Murphy-esque gives and takes. It is a show that feels both bloated and gorgeous. Yes, there’s a part of your brain that will say, “This might have worked better as a movie of two hours instead of a series of nine,” but another, bigger part will be enjoying the performances and production values enough not to care. In that sense, it’s similar to the fashion world it attempts to capture—so pretty you don’t care how much it costs.
Homophobia Examined in ‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Where Darren Criss Shines
“The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story,” which airs Jan. 17 on FX, is not what you think it is.
It’s the second installment in the true crime anthology series, co-created by out producer Ryan Murphy, following the massive hit “The People v. O.J. Simpson,” which debuted in 2015. That season centered on “The Trial of the Century” – the O. J. Simpson murder case – while examining police brutality, classism and racism in America. Not only was “The People v. O.J.” a well-made, well-acted and entertaining show, it’s social context, relating the past to the present on a number of issues still relevant today, skyrocketed the drama into a league of its own.
Murphy and Co. don’t have an easy task following up “The People v. O.J.” This time around they tackle the murder of out Italian fashion designer Gianni Versace, who was shot dead on the front steps of his Miami mansion in 1997 by Andrew Cunanan. Like first season of “ACS,” “Versace” has an incredible star-studded cast, including brilliant performances from its main crew: Edgar Ramirez as the titular designer, Penelope Cruz as his sister Donatella, Ricky Martin as his partner Antonio D’Amico and Darren Criss as Cunanan.
But unlike the epic “The People v. O.J.,” “Versace” is a dramatically different story – one told in a non-linearly manner and one that also fails to link the hot button issues of today with those prevalent 30 years ago. “The People v. O.J.” was compelling partly because it was able to point to a significant moment in time and highlight how the country is still facing similar complex problems.
“Versace” is also a bit misleading. Ads and promotion for show will have you to believe Ramirez, Cruz and Martin are all major players this season. Though they do appear in almost every episode – mostly a few scenes here and there – the second “ACS” installment is “The Darren Criss Show.” But that’s not a bad thing! Criss, who is on screen about 70% of the time, is terrifyingly electrifying, totally allowing himself to be consumed by his character.
“Versace” isn’t a zippy and campy courtroom drama that re-litigates the past but a meditative mood piece of sorts. It’s less an investigation of how Gianni was murdered but why he was murdered. The season is a compelling portrait of a serial killer and it’s success rests mostly on Criss’s shoulders, who proves himself here with a marvelous breakout performance as the deranged albeit very charming Cunanan.
Based on Maureen Orth’s book “Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U. S. History” (with out “London Spy” writer Tom Rob Smith penning a number of the episodes) the show is also gloriously gay. From its opening moments (there’s an ode to “Moonlight” in the first 5 minutes of the first episode), the show’s biggest theme is what it was like to be gay in the 90s; an exploration of the dangers of the closet.
Many of Cunanan’s experiences in the gay community are depicted, including his struggle with being accepted by other gay men and his troubles with finding true love and meaningful connections. In one daring scene in the latter part of the season, Cunanan is bluntly told that he’s not desirable by men because he’s Asian. (Like Criss, Cunanan was half Filipino).
For Gianni, he’s often bumping up against Donatella, who struggles with accepting his sexuality and his relationship with his partner. We also see Gianni’s deteriorating health and his battle with HIV/AIDS. Well aware of his condition, he’s preparing for his sister to take over the fashion company, helping her become a confidant businesswoman and designer. “Versace” even manages to show how the now-defunct Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy (instituted by the Clinton administration in 1944 but ended with Obama in 2011), which prevented gay military members from openly serving, impacted the gay community.
Above all else, “Versace” is about fitting in and finding acceptance among friends, family and society. For Cunanan, doing so was difficult even amongst his own community. As Murphy recently explained, his interactions in the gay community played a role in his killings.
“[He was a] person who targeted people specifically to shame them and to out them, and to have a form of payback for a life that he felt he could not live,” the producer said.
“The underlying subject is homophobia and how homophobia killed him,” Ramirez said of Gianni. “That’s something that comes up over and over when we look into the investigation. … Cunanan was on the news every night, on the most-wanted list, and for some reason all the law-enforcement authorities couldn’t get him.”
“Versace” unspools like a series of short stories. It begins with the Gianni’s murder and then moves backwards from there, mostly following Cunanan on his killing spree. Unlike “The People v. O.J.” (and many true crime shows), which did not show Nicole Brown Simpson or Ron Goldman, “Versace” takes the time to spotlight each of Cunanan’s victims, fleshing them out and making them into complex characters. Among Cunanan’s victims was wealthy real estate tycoon Lee Miglin (Mike Farrell), who Cunanan killed before Gianni. The third episode is solely devoted to him and his death, featuring an outstanding guest performance from Judith Light, who plays his wife Marilyn Miglin.
The bulk of the season follows Cunanan and his relationship with his first two victims, former U.S. navel officer Jeffrey Trail (played by the wonderful Finn Wittrock) and one-time-lover David Madson (Cody Fern). This is where “Versace” flounders a bit. The chronology of the men’s murders is told out of order and things can quickly get confusing, especially for those unfamiliar with the case.
Despite some its shortcomings, “Versace” is still a thoroughly entertaining and exciting season of TV that gives Criss an opportunity prove he’s come a long way since his “Glee” days. It’s hard to tell how the second season of “ACS” will resonate with viewers; the fact that it’s so unashamedly gay may turn off some people (but who really cares about that). “Versace” will unlikely capture the same kind of spark “The People v. O.J. Simpson” did two years ago, but the new installment in Murphy’s anthology series has his thumbprint on it. With stunning production value and fabulous performances from everyone involved, “Versace” has something to say and it is essential television.
Homophobia Examined in ‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Where Darren Criss Shines
GMA: @DarrenCriss talks about the much-anticipated ‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace,’ which premieres Wednesday night #ACSVersace
American Crime Story’s Versace Doesn’t Actually Have Much Versace — and That’s Great
In the first scene of FX’s American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace, the title character (Edgar Ramirez) wakes up, glides through his gilded mansion, accepts a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice that he sips by the courtyard pool, and heads out to buy a stack of magazines from a nearby newsstand. This is the ’90s Miami of The Birdcage, a haven for gay men, awash in creams and peachy-pinks. The second installment of the true-crime anthology series that Ryan Murphy began with The People vs. O.J. Simpson, Versace tells another blood-soaked story about the crazy-making quest for wealth and fame — or at least the appearance of it.
At the outset, The Assassination of Gianni Versace, which premieres Jan. 17, feels like a straightforward continuation of The People vs. O.J. Simpson, which also takes place in the mid-to-late 1990s. Both examine the then-novel concept of death as a 24-hour-news-cycle spectacle: When Versace is gunned down in front of his home, a crowd forms outside, and a tourist who earlier sought the man’s autograph now sneaks under police tape to dip a Versace ad torn from a magazine in the designer’s blood. But it’s fitting that the show opens on the last morning of Gianni Versace’s life, on July 15, 1997. By the second episode, Versace himself fades from focus, replaced by 27-year-old serial killer Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) — a nothing, a nobody, until he made a name for himself by murdering his idol.
Criss’ portrayal of Cunanan, a gay man whose outward confidence and taste for the finer things belies a deep well of insecurity, is the highlight of the show. This is a guy who can make eating a bowl of Fruit Loops look menacing. The gripping performance is enhanced by the show’s narrative structure, a risky gambit that pays off: The season moves backward in time, each episode taking place just before the events of the previous week’s. Versace is a puzzle the viewer puts together as it goes on, and with this approach the story seems to ripen with every episode as we move deeper and more intimately into Cunanan’s past.
We also learn about his other, less glamorous victims, almost all of them gay men who entered into relationships with Cunanan. (The series is based on the 1999 book Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U. S. History by Vanity Fair’s Maureen Orth.) Writer Tom Rob Smith, himself openly gay, draws out the way Cunanan exploits the stigma of being gay in the 1990s both to lure his prey and to cover up his crimes. He is devious in his manipulations. Against his victims, Cunanan wields a possessive logic: the world doesn’t want or accept you, but I do. Against law enforcement, he cannily exploits the systemic straightness of police, leaving behind evidence of the victims’ sexual proclivities that makes it easier for the cops to, if not dismiss the crimes, treat them with a smirk and a sideways glance: Oh, it’s a gay thing. “They hate us, David. They’ve always hated us,” Cunanan tells an ex-boyfriend. “You’re a fag.”
Versace is not camp; it’s a respectful and often deeply moving depiction of the struggle for acceptance, both from the wider world and from oneself. Despite the boldfaced names touted in FX’s ads, the story of Gianni Versace, his sister, Donatella (Penelope Cruz), and his lover of 15 years, Antonio D’Amico (Ricky Martin), merely frames Cunanan’s escapades. Thematically, the parallel story lines of Versace and his killer work in tandem: In one episode, we witness Cunanan construct a sellable version of himself as Gianni helps Donatella design her first dress; in another, Gianni contemplates a public coming-out while the alternate story follows a gay character in the Navy during the era of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”
The Versace family has already released a statement declaring the show’s depiction of the late designer’s professional and domestic struggles a fantasy. But the Versaces are the embroidery here, not the tapestry. Like Orange Is the New Black’s Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling) — the nice white lady who’s sent to the big, bad prison — the Versace angle is a Trojan horse, a mass-marketable hook for a series that’s actually most interested in stories about less flashy, more marginal characters. This is far less a show about a fabulous atelier than it is about a handful of gay men you’ve probably never heard of.
Sure, it’s a bait-and-switch. But maybe that’s what we need at a moment when a powerful speech at an awards ceremony is all it takes for the media to breathlessly anticipate Oprah 2020. As much as I loved O.J., which rightfully won the Emmy for Outstanding Limited Series last year, I have serious reservations about the prospect of our popular culture being clogged with stories about celebrities from 20 years ago (next up on the Murphy/FX docket is Feud: Charles and Diana).
The casting of the long-closeted Martin as Versace’s partner is a nod to the fact that we have finally reached a point when an openly gay man can create a show for a major cable channel that’s this, well, gay. With so few straight characters, Versace can move beyond the anxiety of representation — no one gay man stands in for the whole. There’s no hint of a character or story line that feels wedged in for the sake of the platonic straight male viewer. Cruz is wonderful as the fledgling version of the Donatella we know and love — and also, it has to be said, almost distractingly beautiful — but she remains fully clothed throughout.
Again, it’s Criss who is the main draw. Despite a bit of midseason sag in the plot, he holds the viewer tight in his grip. Cunanan exerts control over his victims calmly, which is so much scarier than bluster, like your mom going really quiet when you know you’re in trouble. He’s got a Trumpian swag, an unearned confidence in his ability to sell himself to anyone. Yet Criss never lets us forget his desperation and shame, the self-loathing just beneath the surface of the collegiate bravado. You can just make out the panic behind his eyes. “You can’t go to America and start from nothing,” Cunanan’s father, an immigrant from the Philippines, tells him in a flashback episode. “That’s the lie.”
The character calls to mind two creepy-brother portrayals in films of the past year: Caleb Landry Jones in Get Out and Billy Magnussen in Ingrid Goes West. Like this pair of privileged yet sinister bros, Cunanan as depicted in Versace is a country-club psycho — an embodiment of the moral rot at the core of the pristine image of the American dream.
American Crime Story’s Versace Doesn’t Actually Have Much Versace — and That’s Great
Darren Criss on Playing Andrew Cunanan In The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story
In 1997, I read a newspaper article about a 27-year-old gay man from a posh private school in La Jolla, California, who was on the lam, wanted for four murders in three states. Vanity Fairassigned me to profile him, and the issue with my story in it was almost at the printer when news broke that Andrew Cunanan, the man I’d been tracking, had gunned down the fashion designer Gianni Versace on the steps of his Miami Beach mansion. Suddenly, Cunanan—and the spectacularly failed manhunt for him, which ended with his suicide eight days after Versace’s murder—was a national obsession, and I re-wrote my article, then expanded it into a book, Vulgar Favors: The Assassination of Gianni Versace. Both are now, in turn, the basis of Ryan Murphy’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, set to premiere on FX on January 17.
Cunanan, who was driven to his murderous deeds by the desire for fame and revenge, would have relished being portrayed by Darren Criss, who shares his striking good looks, his outgoing charm, and his half-Filipino heritage. But the similarities end there, obviously, and Criss is empathetic enough to understand that, for all its juicy details, the Versace saga is an epic story of real-life suffering. “My heart is really sensitive to the people who experienced something so horrible that I’m trying to breathe life into,” says Criss, 30, who grew up in the Bay Area and previously worked with Murphy on Glee and American Horror Story series will be told in reverse, tracing Cunanan’s path backward from the Versace murder, through his previous killings, all the way to his childhood growing up as the gifted and spoiled son of an accused-embezzler father and a victimized, mentally ill mother. Versace’s lush life contrasts with Cunanan’s descent into drugs, and his double life in the gay demimonde and in the closeted upper class.
Cunanan, Criss says, was “someone who had the potential to do so much more. How does that person become synonymous with something so sad, violent, or scary?” He adds, “It’s a story about the have and have-not—the ultimate creator and the ultimate destroyer.”
Darren Criss on Playing Andrew Cunanan In The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story
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