American Crime Story Takes Donatella Versace From Caricature to Character

The Versace brand, which represents the Versace family, has said it disapproves of FX’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story. “Lurid”, the family called it in one of two statements, “distorted” and “bogus.” This is not because they hated the silks, or because Donatella’s Jack Russell terrier Audrey found the color palettes unsuitable for her Instagram. No one from the uber-private Versace family has said this explicitly, but accusations that Ryan Murphy’s crime story is “reprehensible” are likely because the series reflects the reporting in Maureen Orth’s book Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U. S. History. The book, which is the basis for the series, asserts that Versace routinely had sex with escorts (with and without his partner Antonio (played by Ricky Martin) and that he was HIV positive when Andrew Cunanan murdered him in 1997. Although today, twenty years after the designer’s death, stigmas and taboos around HIV and even sex work have loosened, the family’s denials are understandable.

Gianni, Donatella and their brother Santo were a tight-knit unit that meticulously curated an image of luxurious, carefree glamour. They grew up in Southern Italy, with old-world Catholic values practically running through their veins. Although Orth’s book, which FX’s Versace uses as gospel, is exhaustively researched (and presumably lawsuit-proof), the Versaces contend that it’s gossip and lies. And while Donatella has said she hasn’t seen the series and has no plans to, she might be throwing the proverbial baby out with the bathwater because of all the ways Donatella has been portrayed in pop culture, FX’s is the most flattering, and the most important.

Penelope Cruz’s real-life friendship with Donatella certainly informs the grace and seriousness she gives the woman she’s portraying; Cruz has said she asked for Donatella’s permission in an hour long call before accepting the role. She told Vogue, “I didn’t want to do an imitation of Donatella, or a caricature. I wanted to try to capture the essence of who she is.” Cruz grounds her with the most sensible, and perhaps even gracious accent ever afforded her. That accent is hard to get right as proven by Gina Gershon, who sounded like a giddy Zsa Zza Gabor in Lifetime’s absurd House of Versace. (In fairness, she pushed for subtitles, she told Popsugar so maybe it would’ve been better?) Everyone who’s heard Donatella’s enchanting English knows it’s a husky, at times congested and slushy soup of sounds harsh (strength becomes “strenf”) and sweet; sometimes producers actually do provide subtitles so listeners can understand. Cruz told Vogue she worked with a dialogue coach to perfect Donatella’s speech — different now than it was in the 90s. The end result is an elegant purr that blends Cruz’s native Spanish, Italian and English; most importantly, she nails Donatella’s staccato speaking rhythm. But Cruz’s careful consideration of Donatella isn’t the only thing changing perceptions of the fashion mogul; FX’s story reveals about Donatella challenges everything America thought they knew.

Most people know Donatella Versace as a caricature, a shorthand for the ludicrous, Zoolander-like excesses associated with the fashion industry. After her brother’s death in 1997, Donatella became something of a pop star. In the 00s, as cable TV, Internet culture, red-carpet culture and celebrity culture congealed into the always-on loop that exists today, Donatella rose to the level of iconography. Her extreme Euro tan, platinum tresses, skin-tight dresses as well as paparazzi shots next to mega stars like J. Lo made it so that even people who don’t follow fashion could recognize her. And then there were Maya Rudolph’s SNL parodies — which depicted Donatella perennially holding a champagne flute, smoking a cigarette and screaming “Get out!” at lesser-thans — that made Donatella a household name.

It didn’t matter that Donatella Versace was actually the brains and muscle behind a global empire that employed thousands of people: Donatella herself loved the attention. (Self-deprecating and astute to the currency conversation creates, she went on HLN, of all places, to express her admiration for the lampooning and did the bit with Maya on Vh1’s Fashion Awards.) It’s true that the exaggerations weren’t entirely off base — Donatella used to have her Marlboro Reds wrapped in packets bearing her initials, because she didn’t like the warning label, and keep them in a bejeweled Versace case — but as is the case with parody, complexities got lost. The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story presents her with real depth, the way people who really know her say she is is: a strong-willed woman who thrived after being thrust into steering a $800 million ship in the midst of impossible grief. The depiction may not be entirely flattering (she’s never denied giving Gianni’s partner the cold shoulder, as she does in the series) but in Versace, Donatella earns overdue public respect, not laughs.

“We wanted to show Donatella I think in a serious light,” Ryan Murphy told TV Guide at the Television Critics Association winter press tour in January. “Like what Sarah [Paulson] did with Marcia [Clark in The People vs. O.J. Simpson] I think what we did with Penelope was show her with heart. In many ways it’s a tribute to Donatella.”

Of course, no Donatella works without glamour, and the first glimpses of her in the first episode practically drip with allure. Donatella descends from a private jet, jaw-droppingly chic in all black, before getting into a black limo and doing all the stereotypical things post-Maya Rudolph audiences expect: put on black sunglasses, make note of her hair, and scurry away from photographers blinding her with flash bulbs. (One critique of these first scenes from Cathy Horn, a legendary fashion critic who spent time with Gianni and Donatella, notes that Donatella would’ve been more likely to use a back door but, whatever.) Though Penelope’s Donatella captures her exterior fabulousness, it eschews Donatella’s famed trivial pursuits — her love of celebrity, big jewelry and yes, cocaine — in favor of showing someone grounded and tough. Nobody would know from her public perception that Donatella had been running the company for as much as a year and a half before Gianni’s death, so Versace’s scenes of her making executive decisions on behalf of the company swing a new set of empathies in her favor.

Donatella’s achievements are astonishingly rare; despite being fashion’s primary consumers, women made up only 14 percent of the leadership teams for 50 major fashion brands — and that was in 2016, Business of Fashion says. Two decades before that, Donatella had the vision to shape the direction of her family’s brand and the resolve to make men follow her lead. “I had to show strength. I had to show, ‘We’re going to do it,’” she told the New York Times in 2015. Seeing Donatella, calmly and strategically charting a steady course for their empire minutes after her brother had been murdered changes the narrative about her significantly. She wasn’t just a muse, a glorified freeloader, a party girl with a budget and nothing to do — nor was she too emotional to function at a time of unimaginable sadness. She rose to the moment, becoming chief designer and creative director right after Gianni died. While the brand later hit some turbulence (it was rescued from the brink of bankruptcy through investments and structural changes) she remains its head — and was responsible for guiding it through some of its best years. As it turned out, the image of the Versace woman she’d been selling — bold, confident and assured — was a reflection, not fanciful fashion fantasy.

“What she went through was insane,” Murphy said. He said he loved the scene in which she tells her brother Santo she won’t take the company public, surrounded by male bankers. “She did not give in to patriarchal pressure. That’s rough now. In 1997 — can you imagine? She had no time to grieve. She had no experience running something that big and she still kept it together.”

“Tell Morgan Stanley we will not list on the exchange. We will remain a private family company,” Cruz’s Donatella says in the first episode. The savvy she displays under pressure cuts closer to the keen and sometimes combustible real life Donatella than any other pop culture reimagining, and leaves a lasting impression as the series progresses. The real Donatella has no plans to see it, but if she ever does, she might be pleasantly surprised. “It’s important to me when she sees what I’ve done,” Cruz told Ellen Degeneres, “she can feel the love and respect that I have put there [and] how I feel for her.” It’s an image makeover sure to last all seasons.

American Crime Story Takes Donatella Versace From Caricature to Character

‘The Assassination Of Gianni Versace’ exemplifies power and panache – Daily Times

The anticipated anthology series ‘American Crime Story’ returned last week with an exquisite season and revamped cast.

Titled ‘The Assassination Of Gianni Versace’, the drama is based on the murder of Italian fashion mogul Gianni Versace. I watched the season 2 premiere with high hopes and had mixed feelings about it by the end of the episode.

The story revolves around the life of Gianni Versace, his fame as an acclaimed designer and inevitable death; starring Édgar Ramírez in the titular role as Gianni, Penélope Cruz as Donatella Versace, Darren Criss as the infamous Andrew Cunanan and Ricky Martin as Gianni’s love interest Antonio D’Amico.

The star-studded cast exemplifies power and panache at its best. The show is inspired by true events and uncovers the story leading to Gianni’s murder. Serial killer Andrew Cunanan was responsible for the uncalled assassination of Gianni in the summer of 1997 at his glorious beach house in Miami, Florida.

The pilot starts off with Gianni mulling over in his luxurious king size bed before making his way to a bistro and purchasing fashion magazines. He heads back home only to be sought by Cunanan who impulsively shoots Gianni multiple times. The show progresses thereon and a series of flashbacks are set in motion depicting Gianni and Cunanan’s odd connection in the past.

In reality, Gianni’s sudden death drew media frenzy and hype and is often regarded as a murder mystery. The show brings back time and ‘90s nostalgia and the cast delivers stellar performances. However, there is one performance that stood out and that was of Darren Criss.

He notoriously embodied the role of Cunanan and made it his own. It will be unfair to question Criss’s acting talent as he gave his career’s best performance, in my opinion. In contrast, Penélope Cruz did not amalgamate as Donatella. Although her acting was impressive, her outlook and appearance was faulty. Perhaps Donatella’s character would have better suited Lady Gaga.

‘The Assassination Of Gianni Versace’ is a decent addition to the anthology series. The show is intense and the performances are believable but the storyline has loopholes and un-addressed questions we need answers to; did Cuannan really know Gianni beforehand? What was his motive to kill?

Hypothetically speaking, I on and off suspected Donatella for conspiring against her late brother Gianni. There has to be some connection between her and the murder of Gianni. Nonetheless, the show is decent and cleverly put together. I hope the follow up episodes unveil crucial information about Gianni’s death; it is good television for a reason.

‘The Assassination Of Gianni Versace’ exemplifies power and panache – Daily Times

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story Review: Manhunt (Season 2 Episode 2)

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story Season 2 Episode 2 “Manhunt” is disturbing, emotional, and compelling. It still is struggling with time jumps, but overall, “Manhunt” is really starting to show us who these characters are—for better or for worse.

On the premiere episode, The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story “The Man Who Would be Vogue” (Season 2 Episode 1), I didn’t feel much of a connection with Donatella. However, on “Manhunt,” we see their close bond as well as some points of contention.

Donatella: What is Versace without you?

Gianni: It is you.

Donatella: And what am I without you?

Gianni: You will find out.

The look on Donatella’s face as she sees Gianni in the casket—wow. Seeing Donatella lose her composure is just heartbreaking.

On “Manhunt,” we get a glimpse into Gianni and Antonio’s relationship and see that American Crime Story is going with the theory that Gianni was HIV Positive. Donatella thinks that Antonio is to blame for her brother’s illness. These scenes provide more insight as to why Donatella has been so dismissive of him after Gianni’s death.

As Antonio points out, Gianni is not a saint. However, Antonio is enough for Gianni but is Gianni enough for Antonio?

The question is answered with a particularly sweet moment at the end of the episode where Gianni and Antonio kiss outside the nightclub and go home together. It’s also bittersweet because it won’t be long before Gianni is gunned down.

Meanwhile, we see Andrew in May 1997 as he hits the road towards Miami after stealing license plates in South Carolina. He is jubilant as he sings to “Gloria” and it’s hard to imagine that he has already killed four men.

In Miami, Andrew’s lies continue, and he makes a friend in Ronnie, an HIV positive addict who is also staying at the Normandy Hotel.

I find the scenes between Ronnie and Andrew to be really interesting. Andrew loves an audience and spinning tales of his life but Ronnie doesn’t completely buy it.

I also may have a tiny crush on Max Greenfield with his handlebar mustache.

There are a few scenes with Miami detectives and the FBI and we see how the FBI has already bungled up the investigation of Cunanan in Miami. They don’t distribute flyers, which is a huge mistake as pointed out when Andrew goes to the pawn shop and uses his own identification.

The pawn shop owner actually looks at a bulletin board of wanted men in the area.

Andrew Cunanan is not one of them.

They also don’t listen to Detective Lori Wieder who says that they should look at all the gay nightclubs, including Twist, which is where Andy ends up at the end of the episode. The FBI say that Andrew is probably hitting up old men in Fort Lauderdale.

That isn’t entirely inaccurate as Andrew goes back to an older man’s hotel room after meeting him on the beach. He’s a married CEO of a company and tells Andrew he can be submissive.

The following scene is incredibly disturbing as Andrew wraps the man’s face with duct tape and restricts his breathing and then dances around in the hotel room before straddling the man with a pair of scissors.

Darren Criss as Andrew Cunanan continues to amaze me.

The weakest part of “Manhunt” is the time jumps. The episode starts in 1994 with Versace being very sick. I didn’t mind this flashback because it shows the close relationship between Donatella and Gianni and then explains why Donatella doesn’t like Antonio.

It also shows that Gianni was once close to death but then managed to survive. It’s sad to know that he’ll be dead only a few years later.

The episode then jumps to May 1997, the day after Gianni’s murder in July 1997, a fashion show a few weeks before his death, and then some time in the months/weeks leading up to the murder while Andrew’s in Miami.

What was the point of seeing Andrew in South Carolina? It only showed us how strangely calm he is after he’s already committed a few murders.

And the Versace fashion show? It does show Donatella and Gianni butting heads, but I kind of think it’s purely so Gianni can talk about how life is beautiful.

It makes it all the sadder when his life ends so violently.

Overall, “Manhunt” is a riveting episode and I can tell how much I enjoyed it because I simply didn’t want it to end. The acting is incredible, the music is upbeat but oddly unsettling, and the subject matter is compelling.

Now, if The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story could only get their act together when it comes to timelines and flashbacks.

Reviewer Rating: 4½ / 5 Stars

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story Review: Manhunt (Season 2 Episode 2)

THE ASSASSINATION OF GIANNI VERSACE Review: “Manhunt”

“They say people who don’t have much more living to do come to live by the beach.“

Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) arrived in Miami Beach, Florida in early May ‘97, having already murdered four people in the five weeks preceding his move. At the time, there was a nationwide manhunt for the twenty-seven-year-old spree killer, and a month later he made the FBI’s Most Wanted List. Upon arriving, he struck up a friendship with a local hustler, Ronnie (Max Greenfield), who was suffering from AIDS. Andrew began tricking – targeting older, wealthy men, while free-basing with his new partner in crime at a rundown roach motel. All the while, Andrew would buy disposable cameras and snap photos of Gianni Versace’s (Edgar Ramírez) mansion, telling Ronnie he knew the famous fashion mogul, and that they were even partners in San Francisco at one point (to which Ronnie would just shrug, knowing the kid was full of shit).

There were numerous instances where Cunanan was almost caught before putting two bullets in Versace on July 15, 1997. The FBI knew the shooter was headed to Miami Beach, and even alerted local authorities. However, when detectives offered to take FBI Agents Evans (Jay R. Ferguson) and Gruber (Christine Horn) on a tour of local gay night spots, and even help hang their B&W Most Wanted fliers, Evans waved off the invitation, instead wanting to canvas Ft. Lauderdale beaches for potential targets. Cunanan pawned a gold coin he took from the home of one of his victims using his real name and Miami address a week before murdering Gianni, but the shop owner (Cathy Moriarty) didn’t know it was him, because there was no photo hanging on her usual board of potentially suspicious clients. A deli cashier (Bobby Ray Cauley Jr.) called the cops when Cunanan ordered a soda, stating he’d seen the killer on America’s Most Wanted, but by the time patrolmen arrived on scene, Andrew was gone – disappeared into a local disco to dance the night away, a backpack with a pistol over his shoulder.

The Assassination of Gianni Versace’s second episode – playfully gifted the double entendre title "Manhunt” – goes to painstaking lengths to recreate, embellish and invent these scenarios, as Criss’ wide-eyed, hyper-focused performance continues to be the main focal point of American Crime Story Season Two. It wants us to know that this infamous murder could’ve easily been prevented if the FBI’s bumbling (or was it homophobia?) hadn’t been so blatant. Yet it also wants us to feel a deep sense of empathy for Cunanan, who is really nothing more than a lost boy in a great big world, trying to deal with the fact that nobody’s ever wanted him, and that his invented identity will always be preferable to the “faggot” the rest of society views him as. To be honest, if it weren’t for Criss – who truly is phenomenal and walks a fine line balancing both the sympathetic and sociopathic – the whole thing would collapse into a rather embarrassing set of stereotypes: the self-loathing queer who lies and kills because he just can’t stand himself.

Ryan Murphy being Ryan Murphy, there’s some grand exploitation thrown in, ostensibly just for good measure. “Manhunt” truly lives up to its name in a scene where Cunanan picks up a john (Robert Catrini) – a straight, white, rich businessman at the beach – who takes the killer back to his lavish hotel room for submissive sex. Cunanan duct tapes the man’s face closed – creating a sort of silver homemade gimp mask – and then dances around the room in a pink Speedo-style bathing suit to Phil Collins and Philip Bailey’s “Easy Lover” while his “client” writhes on the bed, unable to breathe. Just as it seems he’s about to suffocate, creating victim number five, the gigolo cuts a hole and allows his john to suck in some air. It’s a grotesque, harrowing scene reminiscent of Buffalo Bill tucking it back in The Silence of the Lambs(’91) before prancing about to Q Lazzarus’ “Goodbye Horses”.

Thankfully, this trashy, scandalous scene is made a bit more digestible by everything involving Gianni and his partner Antonio (Ricky Martin) that’s featured in this episode’s numerous flashbacks to ‘94, where Versace is receiving treatment for HIV. As salacious as the sexual content in The Assassination of Gianni Versace is, this melancholy portrait of a famous artist struggling with terminal illness is probably going to be the biggest point of contention for most viewers. The Versace family has long denied that Gianni was HIV positive when he was murdered in ’97, so using this possibly invented moment in his life as a jumping off point to explore both his sexual history with Antonio, along with his companion’s contentious relationship with Gianni’s sister Donatella (Penélope Cruz) is a brazen narrative conceit. Donatella views Antonio as just another pretty clinger sucking her beloved sibling dry while bringing nothing to the table, while the man passionately confesses his love for the mogul in private, and would seemingly do anything – including introducing multiple sexual partners into their bedroom – to please him.

So, why introduce the AIDS narrative if the Versaces deny it to be true? For starters, it plays into American Crime Story’s brand of both indulging the myths that surround these famous ’90s atrocities (see: nearly everything about Cuba Gooding Jr.’s performance as OJ Simpson in Season One), while simultaneously debunking them. One of the great falsehoods about Andrew Cunanan was that he too had AIDS, becoming part of his primary motivation for violently taking life. Writer Tom Rob Smith – working off Maureen Orth’s book Vulgar Favors – is also playing up the tragic resurgence of Versace, as he roared back to health after falling ill in ’94 and ’95, trying to reclaim his seat as the world’s most inspired designer (a throne that had been stolen by Alexander McQueen). The last six months of Gianni’s life saw him vigorously combating whatever was ailing him and espousing the notion of living life to its fullest while ceaselessly creating – an idea that’s channeled through a fictionalized backstage bit of bickering between Gianni and Donatella regarding the rather vapidly skinny texture of the models wearing his latest line. He doesn’t want sickly waifs, but women who look like they embrace existence.

This rather melodramatic mix of truth and provocation is what makes The Assassination of Gianni Versace so compelling (not to mention the show’s usually lush production design). The concoction is proving to be a rather potent mixture, creating this swooning, swirling air of unfortunate destiny in which these doomed figures all collide, storylines revolving around sex, violence and AIDS proving that the difference between fact and fiction is irrelevant when it’s all so goddamn gripping.

THE ASSASSINATION OF GIANNI VERSACE Review: “Manhunt”

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story Episode 2 “Manhunt” Review

Episode 2, “Manhunt”, of FX’s ‘American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace’ from creator Ryan Murphy aired last night starring Edgar Ramirez, Penelope Cruz, Darren Criss and Ricky Martin. This is Murphy’s second foray into a true crime story fresh on the heels of the success of ‘American Crime Story: The People vs O.J. Simpson’. The show focuses on the murder of Gianni Versace as it turns the eyes of the world onto Miami Beach. | 25 January 2018

Dancing to Phil Collins With Duct Tape: The Patrick Bateman/Andrew Cunanan Connection

As we enter further into the psychotic, drug-addled brain of Andrew Cunanan with each new episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace, one can’t help but find some rather overt parallels between the man of many masks and the ultimate authority on masks (both metaphorical and skin care-related), Patrick Bateman. The second segment in the eight-part series, “Manhunt,” flashes back and forth between the week leading up to Versace’s killing, as well as giving us some insight into Versace’s near brush with death in early 1994 as a result of being HIV positive–though at the time, it was billed as ear cancer, and, to this day, Donatella maintains that’s all it was.

Of course, one can’t have engaged in the type of high-risk sexual behavior that Versace and boyfriend Antonio D’Amico did without the high plausibility of contracting the still rampant disease. In what turned out to be many yin and yang foils between Cunanan and Versace, Cunanan was not HIV positive at the time of his death, had so much more technical reason to go on living his healthy life than Versace, a person who celebrated the beauty of existence and all of its details to the very end. An aesthetic man whose designs were rooted in joyousness, his fights with Donatella about shaking up the brand were legendary. This element is also explored in “Manhunt,” in a scene of Versace at the final fashion show in Paris he would put on before his assassination. With Donatella insisting that he open himself up to some of the popular trends of the moment (what with everyone taking more notice of Galliano and McQueen at the time), Versace rebuffs her offering of models who look “ill”–as though they enjoy nothing about life, which they probably don’t.

Looming in the background of it all is Cunanan, biding his time at a shitty hotel that at least has an ocean view. As he continues his endless search for a drug fix, he hones in on HIV positive Ronnie (Max Greenfield), based on a real life person Maureen Orth featured in the biography the show is based on. And since most of the pleasure Cunanan derives from life is in telling elaborate lies to get people to trust and like him, Ronnie seems to be a perfectly adequate way to pass the time as he waits for his moment, casing Versace’s villa and taking a series of photos of it with a disposable camera (just one of many reasons to yearn for the 90s).

Keeping his predatory skills sharp, Ronnie accompanies Cunanan to the beach where he targets an older man he can hustle who then takes him back to his hotel room. It is in this disturbing, duct tape-filled scene that we are given the strongest echoes of Bateman, in the now iconic moments leading up to his murder of Paul Allen (Jared Leto) to the tune of Huey Lewis and the News’ “Hip To Be Square.” Similarly, Cunanan puts on Phil Collins’ “Easy Love” after wrapping the older man’s entire face in duct tape and then dancing about with stoically and controlled gleeful abandon. Bateman, too, has an appreciation of Collins, giving an entire spiel about how much better his solo work is from Genesis.

Each man’s tendency to calmly explain and/or dance to their squirming, terrified victim speaks to the fractured emotional mechanism in their brain. Sure, they’re aware of the abstraction of what pain is, but it’s become so dulled that their need to inflict it on others is, in turn, how they can finally experience some level of sentience. At one point, Bateman himself remarks, “My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape.” It’s as though Cunanan’s own monologues have been ripped from the very pages and frames of Bret Easton Ellis’ and Mary Harron’s character, respectively.

As Ronnie starts to suspect that Cunanan is deeply disturbed upon seeing him with duct tape put over his own face before taking a shower (David Hockney would approve), Ronnie asks, “What have you done?” Cunanan snaps, “Nothing. I’ve done nothing. My whole life I can honestly say I’ve done nothing.” It is this feeling of inadequacy in spite of having all the intelligence and talent (in his mind) to have done something great, to have reached the level of fame and respect that Versace has, that plagues him. And, desiring a release of that agony of being a cipher–like Bateman–he must kill. Music just happens to be an integral part of that sadism. That the show’s soundtrack has thus far been drenched in dance cuts of the time (even the late 80s club staple “Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)” by Soul II Soul) means we’re going to get even more ominous song associations with Cunanan (Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” is already definitely ruined).

Below is the much more sinister, in my opinion, “Cockiness (I Love It)” by Rihanna synced up to Darren Criss’ Golden Globes-worthy clip, followed by the original “Easy Love” by Phil Collins one. In both auditory cases, Patrick Bateman has some serious competition.

Dancing to Phil Collins With Duct Tape: The Patrick Bateman/Andrew Cunanan Connection

https://ia601500.us.archive.org/15/items/PPY9921124633_201801/PPY9921124633.mp3?plead=please-dont-download-this-or-our-lawyers-wont-let-us-host-audio
https://acsversace-news.tumblr.com/post/170123061914/audio_player_iframe/acsversace-news/tumblr_p34mrtdjD81wcyxsb?audio_file=https%3A%2F%2Fia601500.us.archive.org%2F15%2Fitems%2FPPY9921124633_201801%2FPPY9921124633.mp3

Still Watching: Versace

Joanna Robinson and Richard Lawson discuss the second of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, directed by Nelson Cragg. This week’s featured interview is Emmy nominated actor Max Greenfield who discusses portraying Ronnie in the series and his research into the HIV positive community.

Inside Gianni Versace’s Final Fashion Show and the Battle With Sister Donatella

Just nine days before Gianni Versace was fatally shot outside his Miami mansion, the designer had been in Paris, debuting his haute-couture fall-winter collection in extravagant style at the Ritz. Models including Naomi Campbell, Amber Valletta, and Stella Tennant, dressed in body-clinging chain mail and silk jersey gowns, descended from a double staircase and strutted down a glass catwalk that had been erected theatrically over the neoclassic swimming pool.

The second episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, “Manhunt,” flashes back to Versace’s last fashion show, revealing the creative tensions simmering between the designer and his sister shortly before his death. According to one biographer, however, the stress-filled showdown hours before the fashion show was even more volcanic than what’s being shown on television.

As depicted on American Crime Story, the siblings clashed backstage over the women they wanted showcasing the collection. Donatella had booked models with skinny, “heroin-chic” builds—including Karen Elson, the fair-skinned, flame-haired up-and-comer Donatella selected to wear the collection’s climactic piece: the wedding dress.

Archival photos on Getty show Elson in the Versace atelier being fitted with the piece—a slinky, metallic-silver baby-doll dress, accessorized with a veil emblazoned with a silver Byzantine cross. But on the show day, the collection’s marquee piece was reassigned to a proven supermodel and Gianni favorite, Naomi Campbell.

“Gianni never liked [Elson],” explained Deborah Ball in her 2010 book, House of Versace: The Untold Story of Genius, Murder, and Survival. “‘Why are you so pale?’ he used to demand of Elson, in Italian. The British girl looked blankly at him. ‘Why don’t you go get some sun?’”

Ball reported that, during rehearsals the day before the show, Gianni erupted in front of his sister and Elson, who had never before walked a runway.

“He bristled as he watched Elson nervously descend the stairs and walk the runway. Gianni didn’t like her lopey, horselike gait, and he raged at Donatella for having suggested the girl in the first place. So he substituted Naomi, who did him proud as she sauntered by in the wedding dress […] Elson burst into a fit of tears, while Donatella wore a stony look on her face. Gianni’s ruling showed he didn’t trust her with key decisions.”

(Elson, who returned to the Paris runway for another Versace couture collection in 2016, diplomatically told Vogue that year, “I remember [Gianni] being very tender and sweet to me. It was daunting, as every supermodel on the planet was there and I was the ‘new girl’ at school, so to speak.”)

Clashing was nothing new for the Italian siblings. Earlier in 1997, Donatella’s husband at the time, Paul Beck, told Vanity Fair contributor Cathy Horyn that it took him five years to get used to the “Versace verbal dynamic.”

“I thought somebody was going to kill someone,” Beck said of witnessing their first fight. “I had to leave the room … And the argument would be over something like where to put the sweaters in the new boutique on Via Monte Napoleone.”

But as the tensions escalated within the Versace empire, so did the fights. Gianni had long been the creative genius and workhorse behind the fashion house, counting on Donatella as his muse and critic. For Donatella, who was more of a brand ambassador in those days, her ability to stand up to Gianni was part of her value.

“I thought of myself as the one who really was able to tell Gianni the truth, because with a big designer, nobody is able,” Donatella told New York magazine. “That’s the big threat for a big designer.”

As Vanity Fair contributor Maureen Orth wrote in her book Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History, Donatella stepped up to help manage the company when Gianni fell ill in 1994, and was being groomed to take over the fashion house. The relationship fractured unexpectedly when Gianni recovered several years later and attempted to reclaim his position.

“We know that Gianni was very, very sick in 1994—he was struggling to walk to the news stand in Miami,” explained Tom Rob Smith, who wrote Wednesday’s episode. “He was working closely with Donatella to [prepare her] to take over the company. There was this real sense that she was his heir, and then, unexpectedly, he gets better. That is a very tricky situation for anyone—if you’re about to be given control of something and then that control is suddenly modulated.”

Gianni and Donatella “acknowledged friction during the winter and spring of 1996, when Gianni disagreed with her choices for an advertising campaign and she seemed to overstep her bounds,” reported Orth in her book, which is the basis for the FX series. The siblings were struggling to find a power balance and share footing in the spotlight. Ball claimed that Gianni’s decision to change his will in September 1996—leaving his shares of the company to his niece Allegra, rather than his brother or sister—was done in secret and fueled by his frustration and resentment towards his siblings.

“That tension you see in the final fashion show … You feel like Donatella felt she was no longer subservient to her brother,” continued Smith. “She was his equal. It’s hard in those creative industries to have parity. Someone ultimately has to make the final decision. So you start splitting everything up—you could have some models, and he could have other models. They had different styling on the models and different ideas. It didn’t really coalesce as well as a singular vision might have.”

The aesthetic disparity between brother and sister Versace was so apparent during this particular runway show that American Crime Story costume designer Lou Eyrich told Vanity Fair that she took special care to craft a dozen looks for the series that represented Gianni and Donatella’s different ideals.

“Gianni had a more colorful look, so the creams and the pinks and the yellows and the reds were Gianni,” Eyrich explained of the costumes she attributed to Gianni. “Donatella’s models, meanwhile, were more waif, heroin-chic models who wear all black and had the heavy eye makeup. It was important to show the difference between the designers’ visions at the time.”

In spite of the tensions simmering behind the scenes, Versace’s final fashion show was widely praised. Even though the house faced fresh competition from flashy rivals like John Galliano and Alexander McQueen, Versace got first billing in the Associated Press’s write-up: “Gianni Versace reigned supreme with his ‘King of the Night’ pool runway.” Joan Kaner, then the fashion director of Neiman Marcus, was quoted as calling the collection “terrific, sexy, and modern.” The New York Times, meanwhile, acknowledged the disjointed feel of the collection, writing, “for every dress that took the idea too far, there was one where the idea worked.”

“When Gianni died, things were unresolved with Donatella, and how awful must that have been for her,” added Smith. “For Gianni to die and to think, ‘What were we even fighting about? Models?’ It was utterly trivial.”

Indeed, Donatella has said in the years since her brother’s death, “My brother was the king, and my whole world had crashed around me.”

By 2012, though, 15 years after the murder, Donatella had found the strength to keep her family’s company afloat and develop her own identity as a designer. She was finally able to look back at the defining details of her brother’s final collection—the ones that she hadn’t necessarily liked at the time: the Byzantine crosses he applied to his dresses and the slinky silver-metal mesh he had specially created—and incorporate them into her 2012 fall-winter collection.

Speaking to The New York Times about finally having “the courage” to face and find inspiration in Gianni’s final fashion show, Donatella said, “I can look at it now with a smile … I remember my last moments with Gianni, the rehearsal, the show. But finally I have freedom. I am not afraid.”

To find out more about the true Versace story, the series itself, and everything between the two, subscribe to Still Watching: Versace on Apple Podcasts or your podcast app of choice. New episodes, including behind-the-scenes interviews, air every Wednesday.

Inside Gianni Versace’s Final Fashion Show and the Battle With Sister Donatella

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 2 Recap: Light Is the Left Hand of Darkness

If you thought the saintlike halo surrounding the title character in The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story‘s premiere was striking, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Not to get all Manchurian Candidate about it, because there’s no reason to believe writer Tom Rob Smith’s take on the designer is anything but sincere. But based on “Manhunt,” the riveting, rhapsodic, terrifying second episode, it’s safe to say Gianni Versace is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I’ve ever known in my life, which makes the hour’s ever-deeper plunge into the abyssal psyche of his murderer — the “white guy who killed four white guys,” as a witness who nearly helps nab him (inaccurately) describes him — all the more frightening to endure.

When the episode opens, Gianni has been stricken with what appears to be but is never referred to explicitly as HIV/AIDS — the real-life Versace family’s principal objection to the series and to reporter Maureen Orth’s Vulgar Favors, the book on which it’s based. He does not push away his partner Antonio for initiating him into the rollicking open relationship that likely exposed him to the virus, even as his sister Donatella blames the younger man for Gianni’s illness. (Their exchange includes some dynamite dialogue sure to be quoted far and wide: “I am not a villain, and he is not a saint.” “My brother has a weakness for beauty. He forgives it anything. But I am not my brother.”) In fact, Gianni quite literally leans on his boyfriend of many years for support when he’s too weak to walk by himself. The sickness’s main effect on him is to dull his creative impulse, because, simply put, he cannot create when he’s sad.

And when he rebounds thanks to the era’s miracle drugs, he’s like a man reborn. He bucks the era’s trends towards scary-skinny models (“They look ill,” he says, perhaps recalling the emaciation of HIV sufferers who weren’t so lucky) and just plain scary designs, arguing that strength, health, and joy are precisely what his clothes are meant to highlight and celebrate in the women who wear it. He challenges his skeptical sister Donatella to a design-off, pitting his bright and buoyant designs against her severe and on-trend approach, and wins over a fashion-show crowd dulled into quiescence by Donatella…but because they love and respect each other so much, Donatella seems legitimately happy his philosophy came out on top, and he certainly does nothing to rub his victory in her face. You can dig on the terrific music cue for the runway scene, the Lightning Seeds’ trip-hoppy Austin Powers soundtrack cover of the Turtles’ “You Showed Me”, or get a kick out of the cattiness involved in making real models’ names recognizable in the scene where Gianni calls out the vogue for emaciation (Shalom! Irina! Karen!), but mostly the effect is just to win us over the same way the designs won over the folks in the front row at the show.

The better angels of Versace’s nature don’t stop flying at the runway’s edge, either. When Antonio brings a guy back to their place for a threeway, Gianni’s too busy working to join in the fun, but he gives his partner his blessing to continue without him, and smiles with quiet delight at the sounds of pleasure coming from the man he loves in the background as he draws. When Antonio proposes, Versace gently rebuffs him, knowing that the younger man would chafe under the commitment but loving him no less for that. For God’s sake, Gianni is even nice to the Donatella impersonator who tries, not for the first time apparently, to crash his compound while Andrew stakes it out! I don’t know if there’s a word in Italian that covers all the connotations of mensch, but Versace is that to a tee.

Compare the love on Gianni’s side of this episode’s ledger to the fear, hate, and horror on Andrew’s. Just two episodes into the series, Darren Criss is cementing the status of his portrayal of Cunanan as one of the all-time great on-screen serial killers, not just calling to mind Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates, Tom Noonan as Francis Dolarhyde, Ted Levine as Jame Gumb, or Christian Bale as Patrick Bateman, but actually earning the comparisons.

He’s certainly helped in this respect by Smith’s script and the direction of People v. O.J. cinematographer Nelson Cragg. The reference set they assemble for Andrew to inhabit includes a genderbent shower scene by the beach with Andrew’s ersatz friend and escort manager Ronnie (a warm, wounded, marvelously understated Max Greenfield), combining Psycho‘s defining visual with the pre-shower/murder rapport between Norman and Marion Crane, not to mention its star Perkins’s closeted sexuality. (A motel also figures prominently, again with roles reversed: Andrew’s the guest on the run from the law, not the person at the front desk, and he must ingratiate himself to her instead of the other way around.)

Elsewhere, a scene of excruciating sadism, in which an underwear-clad Andrew dances to the Big ‘80s strains of Phil Collins and Philip Bailey’s pounding “Easy Lover” while an escort client slowly suffocates beneath the duct-tape mask Cuanan wrapped around his head (“You’re helpless…accept it…accept it…ACCEPT IT…”) drags the male-on-male-gaze subtext of Bret Easton Ellis and Mary Harron’s respective American Psychos squirming into the harsh Florida light. Simultaneously hitting Pulp Fiction‘s gimp sequence, Boogie Nights‘s “Sister Christian”/”Jesse’s Girl”/”99 Luftballoons” coke deal gone bad, and Silence of the Lambs‘ Buffalo Bill/”Goodbye Horses” buttons as well, this is a scene people will remember. (A closing scene in which Cunanan prefaces his usual torrent of bullshit about his life by straight-up saying “I’m a serial killer” to a prospective suitor also tears a page from the AP playbook.)

And in the most chilling allusion of all, Ronnie — a sweet guy who moved to Miami because he’d heard “people like living by the ocean who don’t have much living left,” then got unexpectedly healthy, and now dreams of opening up a small florist shop with the money he and Andrew have amassed from his escort gigs — knocks on the bathroom door and finds Andrew in full Manhunter Great Red Dragon mode on the other side, the top half of his face rendered obscure and inhuman by the duct tape he’d applied to himself. Because the context of each of these scenes is so specific to who Andrew and Ronnie are, none of it feels derivative or plagiaristic, the way the generic King/Carpenter/Spielberg rehash of Stranger Things does, for example. Indeed, it’s no different from the way it alludes to Christ telling Peter he’d deny him three times when Andrew tells Ronnie, who’s desperate for connection even as Cunanan flees, “When someone asks you if we were friends, you’ll say no.” As I’ve argued before, the horror genre exists in conversation with itself, and Versace is simply using the language established by its forebears to tell a story all its own.

Yet I think the episode’s two most moving and crushing moments don’t fit neatly in either category. The first involves Versace’s final repose: cremated, his ashes are placed in a bag monogrammed with a V, like everything else in the Versace empire. The gold box in which the bag of ashes is placed for transport back to Italy gets its own seat on the plane. Even in death, beauty and luxury are everything.

The second involves Andrew, making his getaway following the murder. After replacing his stolen car’s plates in a Wal-Mart parking lot — grinning like the cat who got the cream at the girl who spots him doing it, pleased beyond reckoning that he’s getting away with it — he drives down the highway with the windows down, blasting Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” and singing along at the top of his lungs while flubbing every other lyric. Contrasted with his petty glee at committing a crime in front of a little kid, this an utterly brutal portrait of forced happiness and feigned freedom. He’s going through the motions of every Brat Pack flick and Bonnie & Clyde knockoff he’s ever seen, but this brat has no pack, this Clyde has no Bonnie. He’s alone with his horror, and he can’t drown that out forever. How do the lyrics go? “I think you’re headed for a breakdown, so be careful not to show it.”

‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 2 Recap: Light Is the Left Hand of Darkness