Tag: march 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: Fact-checking Episode 8

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

What They Got Right

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

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

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

What They Took Liberties With

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

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

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

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

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

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: Fact-checking Episode 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ recap: Brideshead Regurgitated

We gave it a B

I assume this is as far back as the flashbacks are going to take us. Unless Andrew Cunanan had some truly formative experiences as a toddler, ACS: Versace’s eighth episode, “Creator/Destroyer” provides our final, and most intimate, look into Cunanan’s past.

It’s a series of gradually more unsettling vignettes, watching Cunanan’s childhood and seeing the original seeds of truth in his lies: His dad did work for Merrill Lynch, talking his way into a highly coveted job with his professed work ethic and track record of upward mobility. His dad did give him the master bedroom — not as an indulgence, but as a somber reminder of his special status. Even though Cunanan has two older siblings, he is beyond the favorite: His father gives him a car before he’s able to drive, he reads him etiquette books in bed, he reminds him constantly that he’s better than other people.

Cunanan gets into a prestigious private school, where he’s voted “most likely to be remembered.” He happily stands out with a flamboyant flair for attention-seeking behavior. He meets Lizzie at a house party while spinning on the dance floor in a red, leather one-piece jumpsuit. Even by high school, he was dating older men (in this case, a married man who refused to come into the party with him) and dazzling people with his confidence. But he wasn’t a liar yet. He wasn’t a child who skinned squirrels or bullied others. Instead, he read Brideshead Revisited (a massive poster on his bedroom makes sure the audience doesn’t miss the symbolism there) and acts like a manic charmer, seducing people around him with his refusal to fit in.

We get one glimpse of Gianni Versace’s childhood, mostly as a means to contrast Cunanan’s: When Versace is sketching, and called a “pansy” in school, his mother comforts him and promises to teach him. “You must do what you love, Gianni,” she says. When young Andrew Cunanan tells his father he dreams of being a writer, his dad — borderline abusive to his wife and other children — reminds him that writing isn’t an effective way to make obscene amounts of money.

We flash forward to see Modesto “Pete” Cunanan working not at Merrill Lynch, but in a depressing cubicle, scamming the elderly out of their money. That’s how his downfall comes about: called into the boss’s office, who reminds him that he was thrown out of Merrill Lynch under mysterious circumstances, that his track record is spotty at best, that when the FBI comes for him, they’ll give up all of their information. And the FBI comes sooner than anyone might have expected: They’re there at the office, barely giving Modesto enough time to escape home, pry out some cash from underneath floorboards, and exit through a backdoor (agents already made it to the front) before flying away to Manila and leaving his family with nothing.

They’re losing the house, but Cunanan, still loyal to his father, tells his mother that he left money for them — of course his special, genius father would have left money for them. Cunanan’s mother cries, usually so ready to believe pretty lies, but not this one. Cunanan packs his case and leaves her to go to Manila alone to find his father, where he confronts him for his crimes. “Weak, like your mother,” Modesto spits at his special son when Cunanan makes it to the shack where he has been living. “You’re not upset that I stole; you’re upset that I stopped.” And then Modesto spits in his son’s face.

When Cunanan returns home and gets a job at the pharmacy where we saw him at the beginning of last week’s episode, he’s resigned and miserable. His answers in the interview are curt and sad. But then, like a light switch, Cunanan tastes his first lie. He can will a universe into existence where his father owns pineapple plantations. He can build his own future. His yearbook quote was in French: “After me, destruction.” He said he liked how it sounded, but it was prophecy — no matter what personas Cunanan builds for himself, his only talent is in bringing ruin.

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ recap: Brideshead Regurgitated

American Crime Story Review: Ego, Therefore I Am

As we’ve discussed, people are not born sociopaths. They are made. And it generally happens in early childhood. It’s a humbling thing for a well-meaning but fallible parent to contemplate, and the idea at the core of “Creator/Destroyer” from the first minutes, in which we see young Gianni Versace in his mother’s dress shop in Calabria, watching her work and sketching. It’s not… well, it’s not entirely a “boy” thing to do in midcentury Calabria. Potentially the kind of thing a conservative parent would try to quash.

Instead, his mother (Francesca Franti) teaches him her trade. Boys in school pick on him for being queer and his teacher tears up his sketches, but his mother promises her support in whatever he wants to be and do—and she means it. When he reports that the teacher has called him a pervert, she quietly reassembles the torn pieces of his sketch and says, “It’s beautiful,” then proceeds to show him how to make it.

And that is one big reason why Gianni Versace grows up to be Gianni Versace, and Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) grows up to be a fraud, a pathological liar and a spree killer enraged by men who have earned respect for their work.

We cut to 1980 San Diego, where the Cunanan family is loading a moving van under the direction of Andrew’s father, Modesto (Jon Jon Briones), a man whose ego issues are apparent from the first frame. The rest of the kids are sweating in the heat while Modesto bombasts about how he will turn the $500 they would have paid for professional movers into $10,000. Meanwhile, Andrew’s upstairs reading Brideshead Revisited. They arrive at, well, let’s say a bit of an upgrade from their previous digs, a huge, white suburban house, and Modesto leaves his three other children and his wife to unpack while he takes “Prince Andrew,” who is blatantly and toxically favored by Dad, into the house for a private grand tour.

Interestingly, Andrew hadn’t been lying about his parents giving him the master bedroom. One of the weirdest details in his bizarre spiel to David Madson was actually true. Modesto says he’s giving the bedroom to Andrew because “When you feel special, success will follow.”

There it is, in a nutshell. One child is told to “feel special,” while the other is guided through the concept of “special” being something you work your ass off for, for years. One is taught empty entitlement; one is given tools.

It gets creepier. Modesto and Andrew get dressed side by side, each laying out their suits and attending to every fussy little detail while staring at their reflections in a closet door mirror (more Narcissus imagery). Andrew goes to a school interview while Modesto does the same at the local branch of Merrill Lynch (so there’s some truth to that, too—sort of). While Modesto goes on like a used car salesman about having come from nothing and pulled himself up by the bootstraps (obviously a superior recommendation to a degree from Harvard), Andrew’s interviewers ask him what he’d choose if he could have one wish. He rattles off a list of cars and assets; the question is re-asked and he answers simply, “To be special.”

Modesto gets the job. Now we know where Andrew’s recurring Lobster Dinner motif comes from. And we get a flash of how Mary Anne (Joanna Adler) became… a bit off. Modesto’s a wee bit of a gaslighter—show of hands, who’s surprised?—as well as a Big Fat Liar at work—again, surprised? He interrupts Andrew and his mom trying to do homework together because he’s bought Andrew a car (Andrew is about twelve and has several older siblings whom Modesto basically ignores). Mary Ann protests that it isn’t fair to the other kids, who are actually old enough to drive, and Modesto calls her crazy again, and grabs her by the throat and throws her to the ground while Andrew watches. Modesto tells Andrew that his brother and sisters aren’t “special” and that his mother has a weak mind and that Modesto is his mother and his father. As Mary Anne dusts herself off and approaches the car, Modesto puts the window up, so her face is reflected in the glass, with Andrew and Dad enclosed on the other side. Andrew mentions wanting to be a writer. Dad says it’s better to be “an opportunist.”

We cut to 1987, when a decidedly queenly Andrew sashays out of that car and into a yearbook portrait session, where he gets called a “fag” for increasingly loud protests over the uniforms and identical poses. “If being a fag means being different,” he says to the jock who’s insulted him, “sign me up!” He marches to the front of the line, unbuttons his shirt, and strikes a campy pose.

Oh, and Modesto’s not at Merrill Lynch any more. He’s doing “trades” from a seedy office in a strip mall. And he seems to be ripping off little old ladies. Hmm.

Andrew’s mom can tell from his cologne that he’s seeing someone: “Who is she?”

“What would you say if I said she was over 30?”

Mary Anne says a young man should be with an older woman, who will teach him to be a man. Andrew goes upstairs and dresses for his date. The date’s definitely over 30, and doesn’t appreciate being brought to a high school house party because he’s married and can’t be seen out with Andrew like that. So Andrew goes to the party alone, tossing aside his trench coat and swaggering into the party in a tomato-red leather jumpsuit. This definitely clears him a lot of space on the dance floor, and also attracts the attention of the delinquent house sitter who’s hosting the party. Hey, Lizzie! (Annaleigh Ashford). She takes to him at once and confides that she’s not a high school student but a bored housewife who promised the owners-—he daSilvas— that she’d watch their place while they were out of town.

So Andrew has now made one of the two closest things to an actual friend he’ll ever have (Jeff Trail will be the other). Meanwhile, the stockbrokers are on to Modesto that he’s been conning little old ladies over fake stocks. The feds are involved. Modesto runs for it, pretty literally—he’s still in the building when the FBI shows up.

Andrew’s senior yearbook page is captioned, “Apres moi, le deluge.”

“I dunno, it just sounded sorta cool,” he says to a classmate of the enigmatic words, attributed to Louis XV and/or Madame Pompadour.

Meanwhile, Modesto runs home, pries open a floorboard, removes cash and passports, knocks his wife out of the way and flees. Andrew pulls up just in time to see Dad jumping a fence. “Don’t believe a word they say,” he says to his son, and takes the car keys from his hand.

Mom tells Andrew they have nothing left, that Modesto had even secretly sold the house because he knew they were coming for him. Andrew decides to go to Manila to track him down, over Mary Anne’s hysterical protests. “He’s dangerous!” she screams, and Andrew puts his hand over her mouth.

“You’re wrong about him.”

Gaslighters are interesting folks, folks. Here’s a kid who has grown up watching his father mentally and physically abuse his mother, and when she says he’s dangerous, he disagrees.

He finds his father in his home village outside Manila, staying with an uncle Andrew’s never met. No, there is no money, and no plan; yes, he defrauded and stole. Modesto never stops defending his actions. Andrew loses it.

“You’re a lie! And if you’re a lie, I’m a lie, and I can’t be a lie!”

Spoiler alert: That ends up not being strictly true.

Modesto’s response? “You’re weak, just like your mother.” Spits on him. Says he’s ashamed of him. Calls him a sissy. Andrew jumps up with a knife in his hand (He’s been chopping pineapple with it) and Modesto dares him to use it. Instead, he just grips the blade until it cuts through his palm.

“You don’t have it in you,” Modesto sneers. One wonders, had his father not said that sentence, whether any of what happened afterward might have been different. See, being a narcissist-sociopath-psychopath involves total dependency on the projections of others. If they say you’re nothing, you’re nothing. If they taunt you to prove them wrong, you’ll do it.

We use the word “ego” almost as if we’re describing a character flaw. In fact, the literal translation of the word is “I am.” To be completely egoless might be the ostensible aim of some religious philosophies, but there’s a big difference between relinquishing one and never developing one in the first place. People with broken or empty or malformed egos are miserable and very often highly dangerous. This episode is basically a primer on how to build a human being with no stable idea of who he is. The pressure of that instability is like the seismic buildup between tectonic plates in a subduction zone. The longer the pressure builds, the more catastrophic the quake’s going to be when the ground finally gives way.

Andrew comes home and applies for the job at the pharmacy, telling the elderly Filipino proprietor about his dad in in Manila running pineapple plantations. “Is that so?” the man says, a bit skeptically.

Cunanan’s eyes are dead as a fish’s. “As far as the eye can see.”

American Crime Story Review: Ego, Therefore I Am

The Assassination of Versace’s Jon Jon Briones Explains How He Transformed Into Andrew Cunanan’s Father Pete

If there’s one constant in the thrilling The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, it’s unpredictability; from the very title itself, which obscures the fact that the series is really about Andrew Cunanan, to theseriousness given to pop culture icon Donatella Versace, Ryan Murphy’s series keeps the surprises coming. That’s true of the penultimate episode “Creator, Destroyer” too, which offers up one of the strongest performances not from Darren Criss but from Jon Jon Briones, who plays Andrew’s father Modesto “Pete” Cunanan. Briones arrives late to the show, but leaves a lasting, chilling impression as Andrew’s disciplinarian dad obsessed with success — and Andrew.

A native of the Philippines, Briones was part of the original London run of Miss Saigon in 1989, and went onto reprise his role in various productions of the work including a West End revival. He became a U.S. citizen in 2010 — a path he shares in common with Pete, who served in the Navy and became a stockbroker. As depicted in Versace, Pete Cunanan worked slavishly to give his children the advantages he didn’t have, even if a sense of entitlement and eventually contempt warped his intentions and turned him into a con artist. Briones gives Pete a sense of combustible intensity imbued with danger and though Pete has just now been introduced in series, Briones perfectly encapsulates the portrait of Pete painted in Vulgar Favors, from his tenderness to his insatiable drive and his propensity for outlandish lies and violence. Because of Briones, viewers go into the final episode of with a new understanding of Andrew — and perhaps a sense of unsettling empathy. TV Guide caught up with Briones over email to talk about the episode, how he got into Modesto’s mind and what he hopes people take away from his performance.

How’d you prepare for this role?
Jon Jon Briones: Research was a big part of the preparation, but it was a bit of a challenge in the beginning as there wasn’t much information on Modesto Cunanan. Fortunately my director, Matt Bomer, lent me his copy of the book Vulgar Favors by Maureen Orth, which is the book the show is based on, and I was able to read it before I began filming. It also helped that Maureen Orth and Tom Rob Smith, the screenwriter, were on set and I was able to pick their brains.

What about Modesto and Andrew interested you?
Briones: Modesto was such a driven individual in his single mindedness toward the pursuit of his goals and his vision of the American Dream. He would do anything to achieve it. He envisioned it and lived in that world, which was really a fantasy as he never actually achieved it. He surrounded himself with lies and grandeur beyond his means; such a tragic and flawed character, as an actor that is so interesting to delve into and so much fun to play. [Andrew also] is such a tragic character. The way he was raised by his parents to believe that he was better than anyone, including his siblings, and that he deserved everything. He seemed to be doomed from the beginning.

It’s really easy to hate Andrew up until seeing you play his father. Did you empathize with Andrew more after playing Pete?
Briones: Absolutely! We learn from our parents at an early age. They are the “sacred” voices we listen to and learn from. As Sondheim said “Careful the things you say, children will listen. Careful the things you do, children will see and learn.”

You give Modesto some very singular movements, like slamming hands down on the table or slapping them together for emphasis. Where’d that come from?
Briones: I guess the key to that is understanding Modesto’s wants and how he tries to achieve them. He is very intense and it’s about him getting the attention he needs. When he’s speaking he feels people should listen and he will do what it takes to make that happen. So on set, all of these things came out organically. Modesto is definitely a man who likes a good entrance and exit.

Did Modesto’s sense of discipline, his sense of aspiration resonate with your own experience as someone who immigrated from to the US?
Briones: I believe all immigrants can understand, but not necessarily agree with, Modesto’s pursuit of the American dream. I know when I was growing up in the Philippines, I thought America was this magical place where money grows on trees. I think Modesto must have thought the same thing. Then he managed to get himself to the US and realized that as an immigrant he had to work even harder than most people to achieve that dream.

There’s a very eerie and sometime surreal feeling through this whole series. Did you experience that at all?
Briones: The writing is just amazing and I felt the eerie and surreal sense of it while reading the script. Even while filming there were hints of it. Some of the things I was directed to do in certain scenes seemed a little intriguing to me, but now after seeing the preceding episodes I understand the whole flow of it. I believe the eerie, surreal feel makes it even more riveting for the audience.

What was it like filming the scenes depicting the Philippines? How’d that impact you?
Briones: It was cool getting to the sound stage and being shown Modesto’s house. They did an amazing job because as soon as I sat on the chair in the kitchen and they turned on the rain machine, I was transported somewhere in rural Philippines. In the middle of FOX studios, Hollywood.

There has been speculation that Andrew’s’ father was abusing him. Did you have that in mind while playing him?
Briones: I did not have that in mind while playing the role. I believe that Modesto loved his son more than anything or anyone in the whole world. It might have translated into something else, but he wouldn’t have seen it that way. In his mind, he was always doing the right thing and being a loving father. He may have been delusional, but not with evil intent.

What do you hope people take away from your performance?
Briones: I want people to know that Asians are good storytellers. There are a lot of us just waiting to be given the chance, just as I have been given with this role.

The Assassination of Versace’s Jon Jon Briones Explains How He Transformed Into Andrew Cunanan’s Father Pete

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Recap: Like Father, Like Son

The first seven episodes of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story have followed Andrew Cunanan’s journey backwards in time. We’ve seen his vicious killing spree, his descent into madness and his ascension into the life of luxury. Now it’s time to meet someone even worse: his father.

“Creator/Creation” follows Andrew’s young life, first as an 11-year-old boy and then as a teen and we get introduced to his father, Modesto “Pete” Cunanan. It’s clear that the apple didn’t fall from the tree as Pete is a bit of a con man himself, lying and taking the easy road to live in luxury. And just like with Andrew, the story results in Pete being hunted by the FBI when his house of cards collapses.

The title suggests that Pete is the creator and Andrew is his creation, which makes sense as Pete’s terrible life lessons and heinous actions seem largely responsible for turning Andrew into the monster that he will become.

A Tale of Two Origins

The show goes way back to 1957 to introduce us to Gianni Versace as a young boy in Italy. His mother encourages him to become a dressmaker if that’s what he really wants to do, but the other kids make fun of him and even his teacher calls him a pervert. His mom stands by him, explaining that success only comes with a lot of hard work.

This quick scene at the start is all we get of Versace in this episode, meaning Edgar Ramirez, who plays the title character, has only appeared in five out of the first eight episodes while Penelope Cruz and Ricky Martin have only been in four each. It really does seem like false advertising to call this series The Assassination of Gianni Versace when the Versaces are wholly irrelevant to the main story.

Meanwhile, in San Diego in 1980, a young Andrew Cunanan and his family move into a new house. It’s obvious that, despite being the youngest child, Andrew is spoiled rotten by his dad. Pete gives his young son the master bedroom so he’ll feel spcial. There’s a massive difference in how Andrew and Gianni were raised: Gianni was told he needed to work hard for success while Andrew was handed everything and told that success will come to him without any effort because he’s special.

Andrew’s Awful Father

Pete interviews for a stockbroker job and gets it. His biography is impressive, going from a tiny home in the Philippines to the U.S. Navy to having a family and a big house in America. He’s a hustler, but there are plenty of red flags. At work he starts to fabricate accounts so it will look like he’s succeeding when he’s not.

Pete then interrupts Andrew from doing his homework to give the 11-year-old boy a new car. His wife questions the decision, especially since they have two children who are actually old enough to drive, and Pete gets physically abusive with her. He insists that the most important lesson to teach his son is to dream big.

At night, in an incredibly disturbing scene, it’s heavily implied that Pete is sexually molesting his young son. Is the goal of this episode to make me feel sorry for a future serial killer? Because it’s working since Pete is the real monster who essentially screwed up his kid for life.

Andrew: The Teenage Years

The show jumps ahead to 1987 when Andrew (now played by Darren Criss) is 18 and driving the car his dad gave him when he was 11. Andrew is the spitting image of his father, an insufferably confident brat.

Even in high school, Andrew is drinking and sleeping with older married men, though he seems to want a genuine relationship. He goes to a party wearing a hilarious red leather jumpsuit and meets Lizzie, the girl from the beginning of the series. They become fast friends and she reveals that she’s actually older and married, but Andrew loves that she’s an imposter.

Pete on the Run

Pete, however, has gone downhill, still making the exact same stockbroker pitches, but now at a much smaller firm in a tiny cubicle, trying to swindle little old ladies out of their dead husbands’ pensions. His bosses call him in to reveal that he’s being investigated by the feds for fraudulent trades.

Pete claims that he has nothing to hide, but he immediately starts shredding documents and he books a one-way flight to the Philippines. The FBI shows up with a warrant for his arrest, but Pete flees back to his home to get his go-bag filled with money and a passport. The FBI shows up at the house, but Pete escapes again.

Will Andrew Turn Into His Father?

Andrew and his mom are left with nothing as Pete emptied the bank accounts and sold the house before fleeing. Andrew is angry and lost, but he still believes in his dad and flies to the Philippines to find him. His dad is living in a tiny shack and Andrew learns that there is no money or plan. His dad is a fraud and a liar.

Andrew is distraught. His entire world has been shattered as he discovers that none of it was real. Pete refuses to take the blame, spitting on his son and calling him a sissy, claiming that Andrew is just angry that he now has to work instead of getting a free ride. Andrew picks up a knife and his dad dares him to stab him, but he can’t. “‘I’ll never be like you,” Andrew says through his tears.

Andrew flies back home where the house is being packed up so he and his mom can move into a tiny apartment. They’ve lost everything and the episode ends with Andrew applying for a job at the pharmacy. The Filipino manager asks about his heritage and his father, with Andrew lying that his dad owns many pineapple plantations. I guess that trip to the Philippines was pointless because Andrew clearly learned nothing.

Do you feel sympathy for Andrew knowing how he was raised by his father?

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ Recap: Like Father, Like Son