‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ finale recap: A bug in a jar

We gave it a B+

It’s finally back to the beginning, the titular assassination. Remember Andrew Cunanan in a red baseball cap? Remember Gianni Versace bleeding out on his stairs, flanked by doves?

The second time, the assassination is shot almost like a music video: quickly paced, and in tempo. It’s more like a dance than a murder. The same is true of Cunanan’s breaking and entering of a Miami houseboat, where he pops champagne for himself and begins watching news coverage (focused on him, of course) on bigger and bigger screens until it’s finally projected onto the wall. It’s all almost choreographed — a perfect encapsulation of Ryan Murphy’s overly stylized style. A man on television remarks how he saw Versace’s head blown off just as the cap pops off the champagne. Cunanan descends into giggling hysterics. “Oh my god,” Cunanan says to himself when he hears his name on the news. He swings a massive silk scarf around his neck like a movie star, and lounges on a balcony chair. He looks like he’s pretending to be famous.

Lee Miglan’s wife, Marilyn, is informed that Versace was also killed by the suspect in her husband’s murder. “When will this end?” she says. “How many more are going to die?” Barely restraining her fury, she makes the most pointed case of the show: The police had months to find Cunanan, and they didn’t.

Ronnie makes the same point when he’s brought in for questioning. “Hiding? He wasn’t hiding. He was partying. The other cops: They weren’t searching so hard, were they? Why is that? Because he killed a bunch of nobody gays?” Ronnie finally gives the show’s thesis: “Andrew is not hiding. He’s trying to be seen.”

And now that the victim is famous, the police hunt has tightened. Cunanan can’t get out of the city with checkpoints set up to catch him. And so he flings his car keys into the ocean and screams — he’s famous, finally, but he’s also completely important. He is the bug trapped under a glass.

Cunanan sneaks onto a boat and eats stolen tortillas, barricading himself in the bedroom when a woman hears him onboard, and running away when he hears her tell someone to call the cops. He watches them arrive from his houseboat hiding spot, where he also watches Lizzie on TV talking about him, imploring him to end the standoff and give himself in. “The Andrew Cunanan I know is not a violent person. I know that the most important thing in the world is what others think of you.”

Cunanan’s mother watches television from under a blanket and lets the police in through a latched door. “Have you killed my son?” she says, voice soft as a ghost.

Starving, living on nothing but cable news and garbage, Cunanan succumbs to eating dog food. “Dad, I’m in trouble,” he cries on the phone to his father. His dad promises to fly in and come and get him.

“Twenty-four hours,” his dad says. “I will find you, and I will hug you, and I will hold you in my arms, and it will all be okay.” He promises again to come, and tells him to pack some clothes and be ready to leave as soon as he arrives.

And then Cunanan sees his father on television, talking about Cunanan’s innocence, telling them that they talked on the phone — to discuss movie rights to his life. Cunanan shoots the screen. He is fully alone.

Meanwhile, Antonio learns that the homes on Lake Cuomo where Versace told him he could stay are actually owned by the company, not Gianni. Donatella tells him he can take some time to stay there after the funeral. “And after that?” he asks. She tells him that it’s time for them to start a new life.

Eyes wide, Cunanan watches Princess Diana and Elton John parade into Versace’s lavish funeral. He sings along in falsetto with the church choir, eyes to heaven. He shaves his head, kneeling before the mirror.

Eventually, the police surround the houseboat and completely cut Cunanan off. Cunanan grabs his gun and hides in his bedroom, quietly sitting next to the childhood version of himself, and then, alone again. The police cut the power and deploy smoke bombs. They force their way in.

Cunanan takes off his glasses, cocks his gun, and shoots himself in the mouth after looking at himself in the mirror one last time.

Finally, we see the end of his interaction onstage with Versace — a polite rejection, a fundamental difference of understanding on the nature of art. Cunanan’s act, his charm, didn’t work on Versace. “Another night,” Versace says. “Another stage.”

Gianni’s remains are at a Lake Cuomo altar, gilded, surrounded by candles. Cunanan gets an anonymous block in an endless mausoleum. The final shot speeds away, his final resting place disappearing into anonymity.

The show was ambitious, beautiful, and impossible to look away from. Its conversations on the nature of fame and ego and homosexuality in the early 90’s were far more interesting in Cunanan’s story than in Versace’s — the latter’s plotlines were far thinner. But Andrew Cunanan is one of television’s most terrifying and memorable villains, a fully unique character equal parts tragic and despicable.

‘Assassination Of Gianni Versace’ Is The Best Ryan Murphy Show You Didn’t Watch

The second season of “American Crime Story” arrived with the near-impossible burden of topping 2016′s immaculate O.J. Simpson retelling. Simpson’s scandal was familiar to almost anyone who watched the show, but the saga of Gianni Versace, the designer murdered at the gates of his Miami mansion in July 1997, had faded from our cultural discourse, perhaps because the fashion scene doesn’t attract the significance granted to something as macho as football.

So when “Crime Story” graduated from Simpson to Versace, it felt like the perfect fodder for Ryan Murphy, master of sophisticated schlock. Murphy could again explore a nuanced tragedy, but this time he had less preconceived mythology to address.

Does “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” indeed top “The People v. O.J. Simpson”? Not quite, but that doesn’t matter. In both seasons, Murphy and his company of writers pushed past exploitable headlines to tackle race, sexuality, class and the media.

“Versace” came to an end on Wednesday, and we count ourselves ― reporters Matthew Jacobs and Cole Delbyck ― as massive fans. Instead of revolving around the titular couturier, this was really the story of Andrew Cunanan (played by Darren Criss), the spree killer who executed at least five men ― four of whom were gay, including Versace ― before committing suicide. The cross-stitched narrative turned out to be a smart tactic, even for those of us who expected a show with Versace in the title to fixate more on the Versace empire. Gianni and his sister, Donatella, were background players in a seedy pageant that resulted in an FBI manhunt and a stirring case of internalized homophobia writ large.

Time to discuss!

Matthew Jacobs: All right, Cole, let’s delve into the nine episodes of “The Assassination of Gianni Versace,” a show that not enough people watched, probably because it was very dark and very gay. But those should be selling points, and now that the season is over, I think it’s among Ryan Murphy’s best, most complicated works. Even in its disjointed moments, “Versace” felt haunted by demons literal (Andrew Cunanan) and figurative (class envy, crippling homophobia). Every bit built toward the finale’s unapologetic bleakness ― nothing left but a mausoleum and its entombed tragedy. What’d you make of the whole thing?

Cole Delbyck: Having watched Ryan Murphy productions in good times (early seasons of “American Horror Story,” anything Mary Cherry, “Feud,” that “Rumor Has It”/“Someone Like You” mashup on “Glee”) and bad (“AHS: Cult,” the “Glee” puppet episode, Julia Roberts not fitting into her “Eat Pray Love” jeans), I feel confident saying that “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is the crown jewel of his career.

The show featured classic elements of his storytelling, e.g. truly batshit moments like that duct-tape asphyxiation sex scene. But it also managed to comment on all too relevant issues facing the gay community today, filtered through the lens of the very troubled and often shirtless Andrew Cunanan. Experiencing the killer’s mental breakdown in reverse was a true exercise in empathy that left us with a portrait of a man who just wanted to be remembered. Now, of course, Murphy has granted his greatest wish, which also feels somewhat troubling.

Matt: The show’s troubling mien that you mention is a fierce and valid observation (as is Darren Criss’ bare chest). Murphy has long adopted a two-steps-forward, one-step-back quality to the progressive television he makes. He gives actresses of a certain age dynamic roles and tells unabashedly queer stories, then he has Emma Roberts call a character “white mammy” and liken her to a “house slave” in the “Scream Queens” pilot. Ryan Murphy is complicated!

In this case, though, I found the whole affair a bit ― what’s the word? ― cathartic. In the age of “Carol” and “Call Me by Your Name” and “Love, Simon,” there’s a poignancy in witnessing a gay man, living in the shadow of the AIDS crisis, wrecked by society’s chauvinism. I’m not sure “antihero” is an apt label, but the series was wise enough not to villainize him too much.

Cole: Greenlighting the “Love, Simon” and “Assassination of Gianni Versace” crossover in 3, 2, 1.

Murphy is for sure a problematic fave who’s had his fair share of cringeworthy moments. “Versace,” however, felt squarely within his wheelhouse. That’s why I’m a little nervous about the next “American Crime Story” installment, about Hurricane Katrina, because he’s at his best when deconstructing the various facets of masculinity and how it can either ensnare or liberate his characters.

Here, Andrew Cunanan became a sponge for the worst society has to offer, soaking up lessons of power, abuse and deceit at an early age from his father, played by Jon Jon Briones, who had some of my favorite scenes in the series. While Criss’ performance deserves all the acclaim and the Emmy Award he will eventually be nominated for, I even more so appreciated the smaller performances from Judith Light, Cody Fern, Finn Wittrock and Mike Farrell. Here is where “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” soared when dealing with figures we don’t know so well, in contrast to the Versace family moments, which were well-acted but clunky.

Matt: Judith Light! MVP. The sympathy that character feels for her husband, whose affair with Andrew resulted in his death, gave the show its most powerful moments. Her refusal to let the police talk her into hiding from Andrew in the finale ― “How many more are going to die?” she demands ― signals a woman who understands how troubled her partner’s existence must have been. As for the Versaces, well, yep. That’s what I was getting at earlier with regard to the series’ disjointedness.

As Donatella (Penélope Cruz) rose to her brother’s perch, the show drifted away from its twin stories of ambition and self-discovery; at some point, the politics of a lucrative fashion house diverge from those of a sociopathic twentysomething. But in another way, the parallel became all too glaring. Gianni Versace (Édgar Ramírez), who rejected Andrew’s kiss and pleas for mentorship, represented everything Andrew couldn’t obtain. Fame, wealth and love helped Gianni to embrace his sexuality. But Andrew failed to secure any of those, and it drilled such a hole in his heart that he picked up a gun and didn’t put it down again until he himself was dead.

Cole: The finale, better than any other episode, brought the show’s disparate strands together in a mostly satisfying way. Instead of ending with Andrew’s self-inflicting gunshot wound, the show lingered for another 10 minutes to examine how all of his victims otherwise would be impacted by his death. Aside from the Versace portion of the story, the other plot they completely dropped was how the investigation into these murders was hindered by homophobia in the police department. Like, raise your hand if you completely forgot that Dascha Polanco and Will Chase were even on this show. Total waste.

But Max Greenfield, who played an HIV-positive junkie who befriends Andrew, has this long-overdue hero’s speech in the interrogation room after Versace is shot that makes it all worth it. “You were disgusted by him long before he became disgusting,” he sneers at the cops after they press him for information about his friend. It reminded me how this show has gifted us with so many compelling insights into what it was like to be gay at that time, whether it be the experience of a drifter in Miami Beach, a closeted and elderly businessman, the world’s most famous fashion designer or a Marine struggling with his sexuality. We so rarely get to see such compassionate depictions of gay men on television.

Matt: Oh, precious Max Greenfield ― I don’t like seeing our strapping charmer so disheveled and sickly. But Greenfield got the defining line of the season, spoon-feeding us the overriding theme in typical Ryan Murphy fashion: “Andrew is not hiding; he’s trying to be seen,” he tells Polanco and Chase’s police officers after berating them for only accelerating the hunt now that Cunanan has murdered a celebrity. Everyday gay men don’t matter, just as they didn’t when the federal government ignored AIDS a few years prior. Glitz and glamour rule the day, so it’s no wonder Andrew sought renown.

But that’s also the concept that best served the show’s nonlinear narrative: Hope and despair came hand in hand. One door opened ― romance, tolerance, success, health ― and then another quickly closed, for both Gianni and Andrew. And that’s the real “crime” in this season of “American Crime Story.” Any chance Andrew had of escaping his dastardly father and unstable mother was stymied by a world that failed to teach him how to love himself.

Cole: Taking every gay fiber of my being not to quote RuPaul right now, but I will resist. Unlike Gianni, Andrew absolutely never learned those lessons, and therein lies the power of the effective, albeit obvious, final sequence. The designer is enshrined in eternal glory in his chicest mausoleum you’ve ever seen as his sister weeps over his remains, while Andrew is laid to rest among a seemingly never-ending hallway of no-name corpses before the camera cuts to black.

Matt: And what a stark cut it is, as if every ounce of hopefulness has dissipated along with Andrew’s life. He couldn’t overcome his demons, and he wasn’t clever enough to outwit law enforcement on the path toward a redemption that would never come anyway. How fitting that Andrew is last seen bloody and shirtless, sprawled out on a bed that should have been his haven. Even when the show’s theses become too heavy-handed to bear, there’s a knotty brilliance at its center ― one that’s depressingly acquainted with the stratification of gay tragedy.

‘Assassination Of Gianni Versace’ Is The Best Ryan Murphy Show You Didn’t Watch

‘The Assassination Of Gianni Versace’ Season Finale: What Does Designer’s Murder Mean 20 Years Later?

Tonight we returned to the July 15, 1997 crime scene where serial killer Andrew Cunanan guns down famed Italian designer Gianni Versace on the steps of his Miami Beach mansion, and a manhunt pursues. Having once been tested with an I.Q of 147, Cunanan was brilliant and he was able to dodge the Feds and change his appearance not just for another eight days in Miami Beach after his notorious crime, but for roughly three months prior after taking the lives of naval officer Jeffrey Trail, lover David Madson, Chicago real estate developer Lee Miglin, and caretaker William Reese.

Cunanan ducks and covers in a house boat, where he watches the media coverage of his slaughter, that is until the police descend upon him, and we see that he commits suicide with the same gun he used to kill Madson, Reese and Versace.

Some have criticized this second season of American Crime Story for not having the resonance of 2016’s The People v. O.J. Simpson. In an era where social media over hypes headlines, that tabloid trial continued to ring true 20-plus years later, not only in the way it was originally covered by the media, but it also touched upon the reality that times haven’t changed. As series EP/writer Scott Alexander assessed during a panel for the show, bad relationships between police departments and blacks continues to exist, ditto for gender inequality in the workplace as we saw portrayed in Sarah Paulson’s Emmy-winning performance of prosecutor Marcia Clark.

If there was a gripe by critics over the Assassination of Gianni Versace, it was a superficial one, as the miniseries across nine episodes didn’t dote on the ins and outs of the intriguing fashion designer’s life, rather the deplorable murderer Cunanan. However, much like O.J. Simpson focused on how a fractured American has remained exactly that, Gianni Versace zeroed on the complexities that the gay community weathered in the late ’90s, and how homophobia continues to pervade society.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the piercing speech delivered by Ronnie (Max Greenfield turning in an Emmy worthy performance) to the Feds after they bring him in for questioning over Cunanan’s whereabouts. Wiry and HIV-positive, Ronnie berates them for their insensitivity and idiocy in not catching Cunanan sooner while he was in plain sight in Miami (As EP Tom Rob Smith said at TCA, the Cunanan murder case “was the largest FBI fail of all-time.”)

Ronnie blasts, “The other cops here, they weren’t searching so hard were they, why is that? Because he killed a bunch of nobody gays?…You know what the truth is, you were disgusted by him, long before he became disgusting. You’re so used to us lurking in the shadows. Ya know, most of us, we’re obliged! People like me, we just drift away, we get sick, nobody cares, but Andrew was vain. He wanted you to know about his pain, he wanted you to hear, he wanted you …he wanted you to know about being born a lie. Andrew is not hiding. He’s trying to be seen.”

EP Ryan Murphy at TCA said that Versace’s murder was a “political” one and that Cunanan was “a person who specifically went out of his way to shame and out people…He was having a form of payback for a life he could not live.” At one point Murphy and the American Crime EPs considering putting Cunanan’s name in the title, but they decided they didn’t want to glamorize him.

At a post season finale screening Q&A Monday night at the DGA Theatre in Hollywood, EPs and cast members discussed the personal impact for them working on the show, and how the gay community has been effected in the years since Versace’s murder.

Judith Light, who plays Marilyn Miglin, the wife of Cunanan victim Lee Miglin, said that Gianni Versace, “is a cultural and historical event, and that’s what I think is so powerful about it. And when we talk about the time it happened and the love that people had for each other, particularly Antonio and Gianni, and that relationship is iconic in the sense that we’re still living in a time of homophobia. And what this does, it talks about that and brings it present and reminds us where we were in the ‘90s and talks about that we’re still not finished with it today.”

“Had Andrew had a life where he could have been open and lived his life in a way that was supportive to him, these things may not have happened,” added Light.

“We live in divided times about how separate we all are, but it (American Crime Story) shows how interconnected we are” said Tom Rob Smith about how Cunanan’s atrocities didn’t just damage those in rich Italian circles, but extended to various society levels, rich and poor. Smith wrote tonight’s episode “Alone,” which was directed by Dan Minahan.

One of the more intriguing turn of events following Versace’s murder which tonight’s season 2 finale briefly covers is how the fashion designer’s boyfriend Antonio D’Amico (Ricky Martin) was arguably casted out by the Versace family following the murder; blocked from taking ownership of the Lake Como property promised to him by Gianni no thanks to sister Donatella and the label’s board. The miniseries shows Antonio taking his life with a bottle of pills, when in fact that’s debated whether he actually went that far in his depression following Gianni’s murder. What is known is that Antonio is alive and well, with his own fashion label in Northern Italy, and a reported $30K a month payout for life in Versace’s will. Overall, Donatella and Antonio were never on good terms.

Having been a closeted gay during pinnacles of his pop music career, and finally coming out in 2010, playing Antonio was both a cathartic and painful experience for Ricky Martin.

“I feel so much sadness seeing this last episode, and also a lot of anger; this could happen over and over again,” said Martin about the struggles which gay men go through in a homophobic society. He is proud that Versace possessed a strong courage to be out. As Martin confessed on stage the other night he personally “made a lot of my partners hide” and endured “a lot of self hate.”

But despite reliving the pain, there was a positive, resilient takeaway from The Assassination of Gianni Versace for Martin.

Says the Grammy winner, “I just want to be louder, louder and louder”

‘The Assassination Of Gianni Versace’ Season Finale: What Does Designer’s Murder Mean 20 Years Later?

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Finale Recap: The End of Andrew Cunanan

The second season of American Crime Story ends where it began, with the titular assassination of Gianni Versace. After going back in time throughout Andrew’s life, the finale returns to Florida with Andrew on the run from the FBI, stuck watching his own life’s story play out on the news.

In many ways, this season can be split into three parts. There are the first two episodes and this finale, all about Versace in Florida and the manhunt for Andrew Cuanan. Then we had the third, fourth and fifth episodes, all about the start of the killing spree with Jeff Trail, David Madson and Lee Miglin. Then we had the past three episodes, all about Andrew’s psychology from his childhood to his rise and fall.

Andrew on the Run

After a seven-episode detour in time, from Chicago and Minneapolis to California and the Philippines, the finale takes us back to July 15, 1997 in Miami Beach, the day of the assassination of Gianni Versace. We see the murder again, then at night Andrew breaks into a houseboat and watches the news reports where he has been identified as the prime suspect. Andrew seems pleased with himself and laughs at the speculation that the murder was a hit ordered by the Italian mob.

The next morning he steals a car and tries to flee, but there are police checkpoints everywhere so he’s stuck on the houseboat, reduced to digging through the trash for scraps and even attempting to eat dog food.

Meanwhile, the FBI questions Ronnie (Max Greenfield), who gets snarky with the police about how they didn’t care about Andrew’s killing spree until he murdered a celebrity. He claims that society was disgusted by Andrew because he’s gay long before he started killing anyone and now Andrew isn’t hiding, he’s trying to be seen.

Andrew Cunanan, This Is Your Life

Most of the episode focuses on Andrew watching the news, offering a glimpse at his own life and what his story will be. He seems happy to have his name linked with Versace’s, but less pleased by the rest. His mom is being questioned by police and harassed by reporters. His best friend Lizzie begs Andrew to turn himself in because she knows how much he cares about what other people think of him.

A report about David Madson’s father defending his son as a victim seems to enrage Andrew, a reminder of the life he dreamed about having that ended in tragedy.

Andrew also sees Marilyn Miglin, marking the return of the best part of this series, Judith Light. She is in Tampa for an appearance on the home shopping channel, talking about her father dying when she was young and how that impacted her, forcing her to get a job and work hard. She talks about wanting to go back in time and tell her younger self how special she was. This seems to resonate with Andrew and he resents the fact that Marilyn is now successful but he isn’t.

Andrew has an emotional breakdown and calls his dad in the Philippines. Pete is profiting from the interviews he’s doing because his son is in the news. Andrew cries and begs his dad for help. Pete asks where he is and promises that he’ll fly right over to help him.

The next night Andrew sees his dad on the news, saying that his son is not gay. He adds that they talk regularly and Andrew is too smart to get caught by the cops, saying that he’s talking to Hollywood about selling the movie rights to Andrew’s life story. Andrew is furious that is dad is selling him out like this and he shoots the TV.

Gianni’s Funeral

The show jumps to Italy a week after the murder. Antonio and Donatella are preparing for Gianni’s funeral. He wants to spend his days at one of Gianni’s Italian homes to stay close to him, but Donetlla informs him that the homes are all owned by the company, effectively leaving him with nothing. He also gets snubbed by the priest at the service.

The only purpose is to highlight the difference between the two major figures in the series. While Gianni’s funeral is ornate in an Italian cathedral, with Princess Diana and Elton John in attendance, Andrew is stuck watching it on a houseboat while eating dog food and seeing cockroaches crawl along the floor.

I also wonder if this is a little Easter Egg for the second season of Ryan Murphy’s Feud, which will center on Diana and Charles, because Gianni’s funeral takes place a little over one month before her death. It would be kind of cool if FX connected the two shows and included Diana attending Gianni’s funeral in Feud season 2.

The End of Andrew Cunanan

Eventually, the owner of the houseboat shows up and sees that it’s been broken into. He enters with a gun, but Andrew fires a warning shot. The man runs away and calls the police, who swam the scene. Andrew sees the whole thing play out on the news, knowing that he’s surrounded. The police try to contact him, but he refuses. The police storm the houseboat. Andrew sits on a bed, puts his gun into his mouth and pulls the trigger.

In a beautiful piece of symmetry, the show immediately cuts back to Andrew’s meeting with Gianni at the opera. You may remember this scene from the premiere, when the show abruptly cut away from it to the moment when Andrew shot Versace. This time it picks up right where the scene left off last time.

Andrew talks about fearing that no one will think he’s special. Gianni tells him that it’s not about persuading people, he should just go out and do it. Andrew desperately wants to work with him because Versace is the only man who believes that Andrew is special. Andrew tries to kiss him, but gets rejected. Gianni just wants him to be inspired.

The Aftermath

Following Andrew’s suicide, Marilyn is informed and she’s glad it’s done. She also reveals that she’s received letters about the charitable things her husband did that he never told her about.

In Italy, Donatella tells Antonio that the morning Gianni died he called her to talk about a runway show she was doing. She was annoyed that he was micromanaging her so when he called back 30 minutes later, she ignored the call. The show ends with Donatella visiting her brother’s tomb, cut with Andrew’s meager tomb as well as Antonio making a failed suicide attempt.

It’s all a little rushed, perhaps because Penelope Crruz and Ricky Martin were underused and their characters were underdeveloped throughout the series. The finale tries to make it seem like Versace was an important part of this story, even though he was largely absent from most of it.

In the end, the show offers a brief disclaimer, saying that while the series was inspired by a true story, “Some events are combined or imagined for dramatic and interpretive purposes.” In other words, some of it was kind of true, but they made up some stuff. That feels like the kind of warning that should have appeared at the beginning of the series, not after it’s all over.

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Finale Recap: The End of Andrew Cunanan

The Assassination of Gianni Versace episode 4 recap: the drama returns to Andrew Cunanan’s first killings

BBC crime drama The Assassination of Gianni Versace took a particularly tragic turn in episode four, returning to the very beginning of murderer Andrew Cunanan’s killing spree.

After watching him murder his final three victims – Versace, Lee Miglin and cemetery worker William Reese – in cold blood in the previous three episodes, episode four sees Cunanan undergo an emotional journey as he builds towards the murder of his former lover David Madson.

It’s the first time we see Cunanan seemingly emotionally attached to anyone, and provides some insight into his motives and the downward spiral that leads to the murder of the fashion designer.

Who is Jeffrey Trail?

We get very little insight into the character of Cunanan’s first murder victim; presumably that is coming in the next episode, with the series retroactively exploring Cunanan’s murders.

But, for the record, Jeff Trail, a former naval officer, was a friend of the murderer’s from his days in San Diego. According to a New York Times report from July 1997, Cunanan told friends shortly before leaving for Minnesota that he was flying to Minnesota to “settle some business” with an old friend.

The report goes on to suggest that the two had been romantically linked, but this was denied by Trail’s family.

Cunanan’s motives are clearer than ever

For the first time in the series, the murders Cunanan commits appear to have a clear motive. The episode opens with Versace’s assassin pummelling his first victim – his friend Jeffrey Trail – to death with a hammer in front of David Madson, who is frozen in fear.

A brief conversation between Trail and Madson suggests that Cunanan, who was in love with Madson, had found out that they had been sleeping together, and that Cunanan had killed him out of jealousy – thinking that somehow he and Madson would be able to build a life together with Trail out of the way.

As the episode unfolds, however, Cunanan begins to realise that his ex is never going to love him back, and that Madson is likely to run away at the first opportunity. He appears to realise this as he sits watching real-life musician Aimee Mann perform a cover of the Cars’ 80s anthem ‘Drive’.

Elsewhere in the series, there had been suggestions that his killings were a result of his craving notoriety (the day after he kills Versace, he picks up a copy of every newspaper to read the reports), but the murders that kicked off his spree appear more emotionally motivated.

Why didn’t David Madson escape?

The episode is particularly excruciating because we know exactly where it’s going. David Madson fails to escape Cunanan despite several opportunities on their road trip.

It is worth noting that this is one of the areas where the writers have had to embellish the most, as very little is known about what transpired in those days in late April and early May in Minnesota after Andrew Cunanan arrived to visit Madson and Trail.

“We know there was this murder, and then we know they were in a car together, and we know that David begged for his life at the end,” American Crime Story executive producer Brad Simpson told Vanity Fair, “but we had to fill in what might have happened during that time.”

A report by Newsweek in July 1997 stated, “Madson’s role remains hard to figure out. He apparently made no effort to leave; neighbours saw the two men walking Madson’s dog the day after Trail’s murder.”

The drama itself suggests that he was motivated purely by fear.

The killer’s misdirection

The show’s writers have been detailing repeated errors by the police, many of which may have resulted from stereotyping and a lack of understanding of gay life. In episode four, Andrew Cunanan throws the police off his scent by placing sex toys and gay porn magazines out on Madson’s bed before they flee, leading the police to assume that some sort of sex act had gone wrong.

The police later tell Madson’s parents ominously, “I can tell you with certainty, there’s a great deal you don’t know about your son”.

This continues the drama’s exploration into gay politics of the era, following the allusions to the AIDS crisis, and the police’s aggressive questioning Versace’s lover Antonio D’Amico (Ricky Martin) about his sex life on the day of the murder.

Where are Donatella and Gianni Versace?

For the second episode in a row, two of the series’ most prominent figures, as played by Penelope Cruz and Edgar Ramirez respectively, are nowhere to be seen, as the show continues to delve deeper into the life of the fashion designer’s killer.

Have we seen the last of the show’s glamorous duo? As has become increasingly clear, the show isn’t really about Versace. Oscar-winning Cruz and beautiful Miami beach scenes have give way to something far more cold and brutal…

The Assassination of Gianni Versace episode 4 recap: the drama returns to Andrew Cunanan’s first killings

What Donald Trump and Versace’s Killer Have in Common

“The answer for every question about him really, no matter what the question is, is ‘dominance,’ the need to dominate,” said Gwenda Blair—the author of the not-exactly-briefly named The Trumps: Three Generations of Builders and a Presidential Candidate—in a 2016 interview with Yahoo News about the tiny-handed presidential candidate and his big, presidential aspirations. “Everything is focused on that, that’s his whole MO, and it all goes back to his dad, and to getting out of the outer boroughs.” Harry Hurt III, another Trump biographer, agrees: “It all goes back to his father. Since he was a child, he’s been vying for his father’s attention and everything else in his disturbed existence is rooted in the crazy need to prove he can outdo his father.”

Hurt’s biography of Donald Trump has the title Lost Tycoon. It might as easily be called A Life In Dollars—something said by Andrew Cunanan’s stockbroker father, Modesto, in an interview at Merrill Lynch in this week’s episode. The monologue that he delivers is so speechifying and dramatic that it sounds less anecdotal than like propaganda. “I have lived a life in dollars,” he assures them. “I was born in the Philippines, in a house that any of you gentlemen could buy with the money in your wallets…. I bought my first home [in America for] $12,000. A few months later, I moved to an $80,000 home. Now is that biography, or business? Because I will tell your investors that’s what I plan to do with their money. I will cross oceans with it. I will take it to new lands. I’m talking about growth they can’t imagine.”

Like some presidents, it turns out that Modesto also happens to be something of a con man: one who flies the stars-and-stripes flag in his yard, and calls America “the greatest country in the world.” (The name “Modesto” is another of those real-life ironies this story’s riddled with; it is the perhaps the opposite of nominative determinism.) Aiming to transform himself into a more American American, he tricks a very, very aged woman out of her life’s savings. “Yes, I stole,” he tells his son after he’s fingered by the FBI for selling phony stocks, and has to flee back to Manilla. “But only what I needed to be an American. You can’t go to America and start from nothing—that’s the lie.”

This lie is flexible. To start from nothing can be possible, assuming that you have the something of familial love as a foundation. When the mother of the young Gianni Versace notices his interest in her dressmaking in this week’s opening scene, we brace for conflict; happily, none is forthcoming. This is Reggio Calabria, Italy, in the 1950s—and although the boy is called a pervert by his teacher, and a pansy by a schoolmate, she remains as tender as the mother in a fairytale. Denied her childhood dream of growing up to be a doctor, she does not believe that parents should police their children’s aspirations in accordance with a thing as tedious, or nebulous, as classic heterosexual gender roles.

“I see you watch me work,” she tells him, softly. “There’s no need to hide.” “Success,” she adds, encouraging her son to make his first dress from a pattern scribbled down covertly in a language class, “only comes with hard work: many hours, many weeks, and many years. And it’s never easy. But that’s alright, that’s why it’s special.” Contrast this with the advice Modesto Cunanan gives to his son, whom he refers to as “Prince Andrew,” an odd affectation that feels somehow creepy rather than paternal: “Every morning when you wake up, and every night when you go to sleep, I want you to remember something: that you’re special. And when you’re special, success will follow.”

If the current president were not the current president, it would be easier to believe that Gianni’s mother was correct, and that Modesto was in error. Thinking that success is special only when you work for it seems more right, or more ethical, than thinking that some persons are de facto special and deserving of whatever they desire. But “more ethical” does not mean, necessarily, more true.

Now that we’re almost through with American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace, what appear to be the series’ themes? That there is no authentic shortcut to success; that genius cannot be approximated; that our early family lives sow seeds that will eventually grow into something inescapable, for good or bad: a thing that bears fruit, or a choking weed.

From early childhood, Hurt says in his Trump biography, Fred Trump would tell his son: “‘You are a killer…You are a king…You are a killer…You are a king…’ Donald believers he can’t be one without the other. As his father has pointed out over and over again, most people are weaklings. Only the strong survive. You have to be a killer if you want to be a king.” Following Modesto to Manila not long after graduating high school, Andew Cunanan expects to find an answer as to why his father gamed the system, sold the family’s assets, and then cut and ran. Instead, he finds the thing that he most fears: a coward, penniless and living like a ghost—no go-getter, no hero, but a deadbeat bum. “I can’t be you,” says Andrew. “If you’re a lie, then I’m a lie.”

“You’re not upset that I stole; you’re upset that I stopped,” Modesto snarls back. “Now you have to work. You’re a sissy kid, with a sissy mind.” He spits on Andrew, and the son—begotten by the father, but not yet his double—grabs a knife, but is incapable of striking with it. Both men watch each other with the tense uncertainty that only comes from two male animals not knowing who is predator, and who is prey. The moment is near Biblical in tone.

“Do it!” screams Modesto. “Be a man, for once!”

“I’ll never be like you,” Andrew Cunanan says, before he leaves. But you can’t go back as if your parents don’t exist, and start from nothing—that’s the lie.

What Donald Trump and Versace’s Killer Have in Common

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Episode #14 – The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story ft. A’da Woolfolk (SPOILERS)

My lucky #14 podcast! A’da Woolfolk (IG: adabacting/Twitter: adaacts) joins me, Dru Park, for a discussion of the second installment of FX’s award-winning anthology, “American Crime Story,” entitled “The Assassination of Gianni Versace.” We also do a spoiler-free review of “Black Panther,” debate whether celebrities are alive or nah, and A’da pitches an acting role for Meghan Markle! I’m the spoilers, gotta love me! | 21 March 2018

*starts at 5:08

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Problems With the Latest AMERICAN CRIME STORY: Episode 155

Sorry for the delay in posting (technical issues)! But as a special treat, Liz and Ben are joined by Liz’s mother, Janet, to discuss this year’s “American Crime Story” — and figure out why we aren’t as obsessed as we were during the OJ season. | 21 March 2018

*begins at 3:17

What time is American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace on TV?

What can we expect from the next episode?

Writer Tom Rob Smith leads us to the very start of Andrew Cunanan’s killing spree, the one that would culminate in the murder of Gianni Versace.

In a tense, terrifying, almost Hitchcockian hour of the most awful suspense heralded by a murder of ferocious violence, Cunanan slips the few remaining bonds that tether him to the rest of humanity.

In Minneapolis, where he’s staying at the apartment of an architect friend David Madson, quite without preamble or warning, he slaughters an acquaintance of them both, Jeffrey Trail.

Cunanan, using his usual mix of guile, petulance and his terrifying presence, persuades Madson that they should go on the run, and that because the body is in Madson’s apartment he is heavily implicated.

Darren Criss as Cunanan is remarkable as a man who’s both charming and winning, but who is as unstable as dynamite.

What time is American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace on TV?

‘American Crime Story: Versace’ recap: ‘Creator/Destroyer’ – TheCelebrityCafe.com

Modesto sucks.

Growing up is never easy — especially when you have a father like Modesto Cunanan (Jon Jon Briones). That’s what we learned the in the eight and penultimate episode of American Crime Story: Versace, entitled “Creator/Destroyer,” as we journey back into Andrew and Gianni’s childhood.

Gianni’s is, not surprisingly, finished before the opening credits even role, as we’ve learned by now that the focus of this season is on Andrew. His backstory is mostly meant to contrast Andrew’s — Gianni always wanted to be a dress-designer and, despite his teacher calling him a ‘pansy’ in front of the whole school, he was supported by his mother, Franca (Francesca Fanti).

To be fair, Andrew’s father Modesto truly wanted the best for Andrew, at one point in time. Modesto also only wanted the very best, both for himself and his family. He moved his family into an incredibly expensive home (probably not the best move), banking on the fact that he was going to be hired as a stock broker by Merrill Lynch and that Andrew would get accepted into an exclusive private school.

And, once again to be fair, both of those things end up happening. While Andrew’s siblings are left on the sideline (Andrew is clearly the favorite and Modesto doesn’t bother giving any of them the time of day), Andrew makes it in and Modesto gets hired. Andrew is even gifted the master bedroom and then given a car, well before he can drive. Things, for the time being, are looking up.

Until they aren’t, of course, as Modesto’s true nature begins to reveal himself. He accuses his wife of not having enough faith in him, portraying an abusive relationship between the two of them. There’s also a slight hint that Modesto may have also been sexually abusive to Andrew, although we’re left to ponder just how far exactly this goes.

Fast forward to Andrew’s high-school years and things have gotten worse. Modesto no longer holds his job at Merrill Lynch, but now in a pretty small and cramped cubicle, trying to scam elderly people out of money (someone better call Saul Goodman!)

Andrew is trying to make the best of the situation, going around to parties in ridiculous red one-suits and all that, once again proving he’s never exactly been one to fit in.

That’s when the FBI shows up. Modesto has conned enough people out of their money for it to have been a crime. While Modesto escapes the office, runs home to grab his extra cash and still has time left to escape in the car his favorite son, Andrew and his mother are left to deal with the authorities.

Guess what: they don’t (surprise, surprise) get to keep the house.

Frustrated and confused, Andrew decides he’ll go find wherever his father ran off to and try to get some questions answer. That place just so happens to be Manila, so suddenly Andrew is on a plane that’s headed to the Philippines.

He doesn’t exactly find the reunion he was hoping for. While Modesto is happy to see him at first, the conversation quickly turns sour when he feels Andrew has been ungrateful for all he’s done. “You’re not upset that I stole; you’re upset that I stopped,” Modesto tells him before spitting in his face.

Returning home defeated, Andrew and his mother are forced to move out and find jobs. We see Andrew apply for at the pharmacy we then see him working at in the previous episode, which is when he’s asked by the owner about what his father does.

This is when we see Andrew get that ever so familiar grin on his face, as he conjures up a fable. He says that his father owns a pineapple business, making millions upon millions of dollars.

And we all know that the lies only escalate from there.

There’s only one episode of American Crime Story: Versace left, airing Wednesday night on FX!

‘American Crime Story: Versace’ recap: ‘Creator/Destroyer’ – TheCelebrityCafe.com