iammaxgreenfield: Took this picture while down in Miami shooting #acsversaceenfx #ronnie grateful to have been asked to be a part of this incredible show and phenomenal cast.

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.

The Assassination of Gianni Versace Review: Episodes 1 and 2

FX’s American Crime Story is back with an all new season, The Assassination of Gianni Versace, which takes on yet another 1990s-based murder. Unlike the sprawling focus of The People vs. O.J. Simpson, however, The Assassination of Gianni Versace focuses in on one individual, and explores the path of destruction he created with his actions. Our first The Assassination of Gianni Versace review looks at the first two episodes of the season: “The Man Who Would Be Vogue” and “Manhunt.”

Within the first few minutes of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, it becomes clear this is a different beast than the first season. Besides the obvious difference in subject matter, The Assassination of Gianni Versace operates on a completely different wavelength than People vs, O.J., and its different tone and atmosphere are immediately apparent.

Where as People vs. O.J. was bathed in shadow, even during the day with the California smog making full-blown sunshine impossible, Versace is sun-dappled, opening on the pink-hued, picturesque locals of Miami Beach. If you had been expecting Versace to work its way up to its titular slaying, the first episode of the season, “The Man Who Would Be Vogue,” will catch you completely off guard: the murder of the fashion mogul happens in the beginning of the show.

There’s a slight build-up: director Ryan Murphy gives us a study in contrasts. We watch as the wealthy Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramírez) rises in his breezy, gorgeous mansion and begins his relaxing, pampered day, all while the sweaty, nervous Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) stalks around the beach, living out of a backpack. Cunanan staggers into the crystal clear water and shrieks, half-laughing, half in agony. And then he sets about his foul deed.

Who are these people? Versace doesn’t really introduce them, but in these first few minutes we know exactly who they are. We know Versace is a man who has it all: huge house, lots of money, a steady romantic partner – Antonio D’Amico, played by Ricky Martin – and a lust for life; and we know Cunanan is a man who has literally nothing. And yet that man with nothing is able to quite casually take everything Versace has away with few shots from a handgun.

Just as The People vs. O.J. was not really about O.J. Simpson, The Assassination of Gianni Versace is not really about Gianni Versace. Instead, it uses Versace’s death as a starting point to track the life and crimes of Andrew Cunanan, a con artist and serial killer who was able to evade capture for so long due to indifference. Cunanan was a gay man preying on other gay men – crimes that law enforcement weren’t necessarily chomping at the bit to solve in the 1990s. Homosexuality, and society’s reaction to its culture, is the overarching narrative hook of Versace, as racism was for People vs. O.J.

As episode one unfolds, you get the sense that Ryan Murphy and company are trying to ease the audience into what this new season is going to be while hitting beats familiar to the first season. After Versace is gunned down, the narrative begins jumping around, showing a clearly out-of-its-depth police force already beginning to bungle this huge murder case, as well as ghoulish souvenir hunters willing to break through the police tape to dab a torn-out Versace magazine ad in a pool of the slain fashion designers blood. Penélope Cruz’s Donatella Versace enters the picture, and proceeds to steal the show. Cruz nails the real Donatella’s voice, but also makes the character her own – a brooding-yet-imposing figure trying to figure out how to keep the Versace name (and brand) alive now that her brother is dead. Flashbacks also begin – and these are what you need to start paying attention to. Because as episode two makes clear, the whole show is going to consist of flashbacks.

The Man Who Would Be Vogue presents a scene that the Versace family insists never happened: a moment where Cunanan meets and charms his way into Versace’s life years before the murder. Whether or not this event actually happened is irrelevant – this scene exists to start revealing to us who Cunanan is: a charming, manipulative psychopath, able to sweet-talk his way into seemingly anyone’s life.

Here is The Assassination of Gianni Versace’s biggest strength and weakness. Darren Criss’ performance is remarkable – the type of committed, engrossing work that gets labeled as “career defining” and wins awards. Yet it’s nearly impossible to empathize with Cunanan. One of the People vs. O.J.’s greatest strengths was finding a way to make nearly every character (save possibly Simpson himself) relatable. Even blow-hard lawyer Johnnie Cochran was given a sympathetic, or at least empathetic, backstory. As Versace moves forward, or rather, backward (more on that below), Cunanan becomes worse – a cruel, unfeeling creature who kills with impunity.

Episode 2, “Manhunt,” is the first episode that truly reveals the narrative format the show will be taking. Like Christopher Nolan’s Memento or Gaspar Noé’s Irréversible, Versace is a story told in reverse. Every episode jumps back to events that occurred just before the previous episode. So while “The Man Who Would Be Vogue” has Cunanan already in Miami Beach, about to murder Versace, “Manhunt” presents us with his arrival – blowing into town in a red pickup truck, blasting and singing along to Laura Branigan’s “Gloria.” This brief, amusing moment is perhaps the most likable Cunanan will ever seem in the series. Once he arrives in Miami Beach, however, he instantly begins working the angles, needlessly lying about his past to a hotel manager as he takes up residence in her run-down, pastel-colored hotel by the sea.

One in Miami Beach, Cunanan befriends a local named Ronnie (Max Greenfield), but it’s not entirely clear what, if anything, Cunanan wants out of the friendship, other than perhaps someone to spend time with as he waits to make his big move against Versace. Ronnie is HIV positive, although he never quite comes out and says that. He instead mentions being sick, and then asks Cunanan, “Are you sick?” The vagueness allows the question to linger – Cunanan is not HIV positive, but he has a different sickness somewhere inside him; a sickness robbing him of empathy, driving him to do his terrible deeds.

Sickness is what opens Manhunt as well. In a rather heartbreaking mini-movie taking place right before the title card, we get a whirlwind tour of events in Versace’s life. The fashion designer arrives at a hospital, incognito, and travels down a lonely wing where he sees two sick, dying men laying side by side in hospital beds. Versace is sick, and yet again, the show takes a vague approach to his illness. It’s heavily implied here that Versace has AIDS or is HIV positive, but the Versace family disputes this claim. According to them, the fashion designer had ear cancer. Tom Rob Smith, who wrote the script and helped develop the season, maintains he talked to off-the-record sources who confirmed Versace had HIV. Whether or not Versace did, this moment is intended to establish the fashion designer looking death in the face – and coming back from the brink.

Later in the episode, we see Versace talking about how he feels healthy and alive again, and how he wants his designs to reflect life. But here, in this opening, the focus shifts abruptly from Versace coming to terms with his illness, to Versace’s body being prepared in the morgue – the gaping bullet hole in his face being sealed up so he can be presentable in an open casket. Donatella later arrives, dresses the dead man in a fine suit, and then Versace is cremated. We see all of these minute yet devastating details, and the message is clear: this is what Andrew Cunanan did. With a few bullets, he reduced Versace to a literal pile of ashes – ashes that are soon placed in a gold, ornate box, and flown away on a private jet by Donatella.

“After all he went through, to die like this,” she mutters, her glassy gaze on the box. This is the sum total of an iconic life: dust. It’s haunting, and it’s necessary. Occasionally, Versace will dip into camp territory, but moments like this are essential to remind us that while Cunanan may occasionally seem darkly comedic, he also destroyed lives.

As for Cunanan, “Manhunt” begins to peel back the curtain on him as an individual. Again, Criss’ performance is stellar, full of bluster and confidence always masking panic and rage. In Criss’ hands, Cunanan is a cross between Tom Ripley from The Talented Mr. Ripley and Patrick Bateman in American Psycho, image-obsessed and possessing the cunning ability to adapt and turn himself into whatever the situation calls for. “Manhunt” even gives him a very Bateman-esque moment, where he dances around a room to pop music as a victim struggles before him. This scene is shocking, starting off amusing and descending into high tension. Hoping to score money for drugs, Cunanan has picked-up an older, closeted man at the beach. They go back to the man’s posh hotel room, and Cunanan proceeds to wrap the man’s entire head in duct tape – taking away his humanity, removing any trace of personhood. The man struggles to breathe as Cunanan hovers over him, scissors clenched in a fist. Cunanan eventually stabs a hole around the man’s mouth so the man can breathe. Later, the act over, Cunanan leaves as if nothing happened at all. The man, clearly traumatized, slips on a wedding ring, picks up the phone, and dials 9-1-1. Yet when the operator asks him what his emergency is, the man whimpers, “Nothing,” and hangs up.

This is Cunanan’s ultimate power. By preying on closeted gay men, he knows his chances of being caught are slim to none – because law enforcement doesn’t care. We get a front row seat to this as FBI agents show up and meet with local cops. The FBI is pretty sure Cunanan is coming to, or already in, Florida. When a local cop suggests they hang Cunanan’s WANTED fliers in the gay section of town and start canvasing, the FBI seems utterly indifferent. “This isn’t our top priority,” they say. In other words: they couldn’t care less.

Versace isn’t shying away from the implications presented here: that if someone, somewhere, just gave a damn, Versace (and other people) would still be alive, and Andrew Cunanan would’ve been stopped a lot sooner.

As for Cunanan, he closes out “Manhunt” by letting his mask of sanity slip. While stalking (and failing to find) Versace at a gay nightclub, Cunanan encounters another man. “What do you do?” the man asks. “I’m a serial killer,” Cunanan yells into his ear over the pounding music. When the other man at the club asks him to repeat that, Cunanan launches into a laundry list of jobs: “I’m a banker, I’m a stockbroker, I built movie sets, I…” – here are all Cunanan’s various fake identities coming out in one arterial gush. He senses the end is near. Earlier, Ronnie told him that he personally moved to Miami Beach because he once heard that people who don’t have much time left to live often decide to live by the water. Cunanan has gotten so far on his wits, and lies, but here, in this moment at the club, you sense that he knows he can’t keep this up much longer. You sense that Ronnie’s earlier question is echoing in his head.

“Are you sick?”

The Assassination of Gianni Versace Review: Episodes 1 and 2

American Crime Story Producers Talk Versace, Hurricane Katrina and More

Brad Simpson and Nina Jacobson are executive producers on American Crime Story. After the captivating and award winning first season, The People Vs. O.J. Simpson, there were some hold-ups. The next season was supposed to be about Hurricane Katrina, followed by the Gianni Versace murder. The Assassination of Gianni Versace became the second season, but Hurricane Katrina is still up next. Then they are developing a season about the Linda Tripp and Monica Lewinsky sex scandals of President Bill Clinton.

/Film spoke with Jacobson and Simpson at an FX party for the Television Critics Association. They described how each season has a different tone and therefore needs a different writer, and what we can expect from future seasons.

Since Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski weren’t available, how did you find new writers to tackle Versace?

Simpson: Ryan [Murphy] had Maureen [Orth]’s book and Nina and I had to think about who would be the perfect writer for this. It was tonally going to be different. O.J. was a drama. It had a sort of Sidney Lumet/Paddy Chayefsky inserted into it. This needed to be something out of the vein of Silence of the Lambs or David Fincher with a political bent. Tom Rob Smith is a writer we love. I tried to option his book, Child 44. When it came out, I lost the option battle for that. I think he’s one of the premier thriller writers as a novelist. We loved his series London Spy. He writes about all these things: Ripley-like characters, mysteries, people who are liars and also sexuality. It felt like his voice was the right voice for this. We knew we needed somebody who had as strong a reputation as Scott and Larry. He got the book and loved it and signed on instantly. Except for cowriting one episode, he’s written every episode of the season.

Do you think you’ll have a different writer for each season?

Simpson: I would love to stumble upon a writer who’d do a couple seasons with us. It’s tough because I love Scott and Larry. This wouldn’t have been a show that would’ve been right for them to write. Tom’s voice was perfect for this. It’d be easier for me if we could find somebody who would stay on, but somebody said earlier today, “We’re doing genres within genre.” True crime can mean many different things. If we did a kidnapping story, I guess we won’t because FX has their kidnapping story [Trust], but if we did a bank robbery story, we would probably find a very different type of writer.

Jacobson: The truth is that Tom wrote some amazing scripts early on. So we had a lot of very strong scripts while we were still struggling with Katrina, so we had plenty to get started because he was on a tear. He knew exactly what he wanted. We had the usual dramaturgical process of the back and forth, but he was writing great material and had a lot of them. At a point we were like, “Very clearly, we should be doing this first. It’s ready and we’re not ready on Katrina.” Better to get it right and do justice to your stories than to try to hit a deadline. Even though you wish you could hit a deadline, you’d rather not screw it up.

If Scott and Larry wouldn’t be right for Versace, how is the tone different from People Vs. O.J. Simpson?

Jacobson: It’s a different kind of story because of the fact that so many of the episodes cover different people. So you have all of the victims to explore. I don’t think people knew these people to begin with so they don’t have a lot of predetermined ideas because they didn’t know who these figures were. For me, I was impressed and surprised by what a cutting edge figure Versace was. I don’t think I realized that. You think of Versace clothes, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous kind of signifier of wealth. I didn’t realize what a visionary he was, how courageous his coming out was, the fact that he was really one of the first designers to come out. The others who had been forced out by having AIDS, all of that stuff really surprised me and the degree to which his work came from the inside, from his background and his history, his family, childhood. I really feel like I didn’t understand who he was until we dove into the research.

…

Did you think you could at first?

Simpson: O.J. took us a year and a half to write that. What we learned is with a new writer and new subject, you really have to put the time in and O.J. set a high bar. We didn’t expect to ever achieve what O.J. achieved which was this amazing universal acclaim, awards, ratings and everyone talking about it. We want each show to have integrity and exist and work on its own merits and bring something different to people. We’re never going to try to repeat O.J. That’s the reason this season is very different. If you’re showing up thinking it’s going to be O.J., you’re getting something very different this season. I hope it’s pleasurable. It’s scarier. It’s more intense but it’s also I think an important story.

American Crime Story Producers Talk Versace, Hurricane Katrina and More

5 Shockers From “The Assassination Of Gianni Versace” | E! News

“American Crime Story” returns for a second season and E! breaks down the top five moments from the show that may surprise you. | 17 January 2018

The problem with our TV true crime obsession

Traditionally, TV listings are found towards the back of a newspaper. These days, however, anyone wondering what the next hit series will be is better off looking for the most violent item on the front page.

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, which premiered in the US this week, is the latest in a seemingly endless new wave of true-crime dramas. Like a recent series of British primetime hits, it taps in to an apparent appetite to relive headline-making cases of the recent past. But unlike our dour docudramas, it does so with unapologetic panache.

It’s a very stylish – and very stylised – account of the serial killer Andrew Cunanan’s life, told in reverse, from his apparently motiveless 1997 murder of the Italian fashion designer Versace back to his troubled early years. The Versace family have branded it “a work of fiction”. It’s a compliment, though they didn’t intend it as one. This anthology series (which last year won nine Emmys and two Golden Globes for its retelling of the O J Simpson trial) puts good storytelling first. American Crime Story’s creator, Ryan Murphy, is also responsible for Glee. His métier is gorgeous, meticulously crafted trash, with a side order of stunt casting: here pop singer Ricky Martin plays Versace’s bereaved boyfriend Antonio.

Given Murphy’s reputation, the emotional depth of American Crime Story has come as a surprise to some critics. But Murphy has never been shallow. Beneath the kitsch, his dramas have always had an understanding of what pop culture can teach us about ourselves. O J Simpson’s trial has taken on different resonances over the decades – as proven by a scene in American Crime Story’s first series, in which OJ’s lawyer Robert Kardashian lectures his daughter Kim on the dark side of fame. Similarly, just as OJ offered interesting observations about race and celebrity, the Versace drama has pertinent things to say about gay identity.

Viewing the past from an ironic distance, Murphy’s bold approach places his true-crime dramas leagues ahead of his British peers’ efforts. The contrast will become unignorable when the show’s second series arrives on BBC Two next month – and, despite all their hand-wringing earnestness, it’s the British shows that feel more exploitative.

One of the big differences is timing: both series of American Crime Story are about events that took place 20 years ago. When a tragedy is too fresh in people’s memories, however, any irreverent, experimental retelling risks accusations of insensitivity. As a result, British filmmakers covering more recent crimes have found themselves hamstrung by convention – but even then, the speed with which they are ready to translate real-life suffering into primetime drama has necessarily felt a bit queasy.

In the space of just four months last year, British viewers suffered through The Moorside (about the 2008 disappearance of Shannon Matthews), Little Boy Blue (about the 2007 murder of 11-year-old Rhys Jones) and Three Girls, broadcast just five years on from the Rochdale sex-trafficking trial that inspired it. (The first two, incidentally, were both written by Jeff Pope, who has become the recognised leader of the genre)

Each show took a similarly down-the-line approach to narrative, and presented the suffering of Northern working-class families in washed-out greys, pushing the audience towards helpless anger at the slow-moving, ineffectual authorities. Each show had similarly doleful performances, earning the same raves from critics. None attempted anything that couldn’t have been achieved better by a documentary.

The other option, of course, is to create dramas that cut straight to the issues, without exploiting real people’s stories to do it. In 2016, the excellent National Treasure – following a fictional Seventies TV star hit by sex abuse allegations – turned the quagmire of Operation Yewtree into art, raising questions a straightforward factual account never could.

But our myopic, ripped-from-the-headlines docudramas are often too close to their subject to offer either documentary insight or dramatic depth.

Nevertheless don’t expect the true-crime trend to abate. Next up from the BBC is The Barking Murders, a three-part drama about the East London rapist and serial killer Stephen Port, who targeted victims on gay dating apps. It will arrive less than two years on from his conviction – let’s hope it is not another case of “too much, too soon”.

The problem with our TV true crime obsession

Costumes help tell the story in “The Assassination of Gianni Versace”

In the pantheon of 1990s fashion, the name Versace rises above all others when it comes to a kind of baroque sexiness and celebrity flash that ran counter to the grunge and minimalism trends of the decade. There was a joy in the bold patterns, gold Medusa emblems and barely there dresses Gianni Versace dressed celebrities like Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow in and featured on supermodels including Naomi Campbell and Cindy Crawford. That joy was snuffed out tragically on the steps of Versace’s Miami villa on July 17, 1997, when hustler-turned-spree-killer Andrew Cunanan fatally shot the designer.

“American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace” (debuting Wednesday, Jan. 17 on FX) tells the story of Cunanan’s deadly rampage that eventually brought him to Versace’s doorstep. Chronicle television critic David Wiegand had much praise for the series’ storytelling. Style viewed the first eight episodes of the limited series with an eye toward whether show-runner Ryan Murphy and his longtime costume designer, Lou Eyrich, got the era’s fashion story correct.

Early in the series, we see a re-creation of one of Versace’s runway shows and peek behind the scenes at Gianni (Édgar Ramírez ) putting the finishing touches on a collection with his sister Donatella (Penelope Cruz). Instantly, the liquid-gold excess of the Versace heyday is illustrated, with Gianni telling his sister that he wants to create “happy” clothes, not the moody collections coming into vogue via rising fashion stars Alexander McQueen and John Galliano. Knowing what’s coming, the exuberance of his collections is that much more haunting.

In a later episode, we get an even more intimate look at the creative partnership between the siblings as they collaborate on a dress to be worn by Donatella to a party celebrating the 100th anniversary of Vogue in 1993. The result is a re-creation of the actual black leather-strapped, luxe-bondage gown that caused a red carpet sensation in the press, akin to what Gianni’s gold safety-pinned, side-slit gown for model Elizabeth Hurley did a year later at the “Four Weddings and a Funeral” premiere. It was Donatella’s black leather debutante gown of a sort, symbolic of a kind of creative coming out. This Versace-land rings period-true, from the clinging, chain-printed Speedos worn by Gianni’s live-boyfriend, Antonio, to the crisp uniforms worn by the villa manservants. The bright Miami and Milanese sun that infuses these scenes makes the Versace floral prints and shining hardware pop even more, especially compared to the (metaphorical) darkness in Andrew Cunanan’s (Darren Criss) world.

Criss’ transformation from affable “Glee” singer to sadistic con artist in “The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is helped considerably by Eyrich’s costuming, which sees him transform from prep school uniform and mall basics to “American Gigolo” boxy suiting, as well as the ever-present wire-rim glasses that were seen on a thousand wanted posters. In re-establishing the worlds each season in Murphy’s three anthology series, Eyrich’s work has been essential, whether it’s the ever-evolving gothic motifs of Murphy’s “American Horror Story” or the fading Hollywood glamour of 2018’s “Feud: Bette and Joan.”

She doesn’t just get the big picture right; she uses clothes to further the story. Eyrich’s attention to Cunanan’s status-seeking menswear, whether it’s a pair of Ferragamo loafers or a Rolex watch he uses to entice a potential romantic partner/victim, drives the narrative. Cunanan’s pretending and social climbing would not have the same believability if it weren’t for the way he used his charm, good looks and ability to dress the part to ease his way into his victims’ worlds. Eyrich’s wardrobe concepts are frequently more than re-creation, they’re world-specific interpretations that use both exaggeration and restraint to drive the narrative. The soft decorator earth tones worn by the older, affluent gay men that Cunanan sees as potential prey perfectly capture that subset in the same way the fleeting glance at ’90s club fashion encapsulates Miami’s gay scene.

Eyrich and Murphy’s work together over the years has become so well-regarded that in 2017 the Paley Center in Beverly Hills celebrated their collaborations on “American Horror Story” with a special exhibition, “The Style of Scare.” Although the scares are more of the suspense variety and less supernatural in “The Assassination of Gianni Versace,” Eyrich’s costumes are essential in keeping the tension in the series as taut as one of Versace’s signature little dresses.

Costumes help tell the story in “The Assassination of Gianni Versace”

Visiting Versace’s Miami, Where the Memories Haven’t Faded

Tony Magaldi corrects the record about one Gianni Versace anecdote that has persisted all these years: The designer did not eat breakfast at News Café the morning of his death on July 15, 1997. “His routine was to visit our newsstand in the morning and buy out-of-town papers; once in a while he had coffee with us,” explains Magaldi, managing partner of the iconic 24-hour café on Miami’s South Beach. “But he rarely ate here; he had his own chef at home.”

News Café will be one of the locations seen when American Crime Story:The Assassination of Gianni Versace premieres Jan. 17 on FX, but the script doesn’t put the designer there on that fateful day. “I thought they might re-enact when he came in that last day, but it was another scene,” says Magaldi, who recalls standing on the café’s front steps on that July 1997 morning. “I remember how hot it was – July in Miami, you know? He came in, bought his papers and left. Not long after, a cop came by on his bicycle and asked if Versace had been here, and I said yeah, I had just seen him. And then he sped off. It’s one of those days you don’t forget.”

Memories of Gianni Versace have not faded in South Beach over the two decades since Andrew Cunanan shot and killed the designer, who was just 50 years old, on the steps of Casa Casuarina. Versace had purchased the South Beach mansion for $2.95 million in 1992 and lovingly converted it into not only his personal residence but also one of the world’s most celebrated examples of Italian Baroque splendor (it’s now a luxury hotel). Versace’s big-picture vision in this endeavor shouldn’t be underestimated: In 1992 South Beach still felt undeniably dingy and largely underdeveloped, dotted with faded Art Deco buildings occupied by senior citizens, many of whom spent their mornings (before the sun rose to sizzling temperatures) in lawn chairs on the porches of these forgotten hotels; locals had dubbed it “God’s waiting room.” But with News Café as a buzzy spot at Eighth Street and Ocean Drive, Casa Casuarina situated between 11th and 12th streets, and now-legendary hotels like the Clevelander, the Carlyle (used as a location for 1996’s The Birdcage and now a condo building) and the Tides (where portions of 1999’s Random Hearts were filmed) nearby, not to mention considerable help from the fashion and modeling industries, the oceanfront avenue evolved within less than a decade into one of the world’s most glamorous vacation spots.

These days you will find plenty of onlookers at the gates of Casa Casuarina; the numbers have not diminished after all these years. “We have literally thousands of people taking photos in front of the house each week — it’s actually the third most-photographed home in the U.S., after Graceland and the White House,” maintains Chauncey Copeland, general manager of the property, now the Villa Casa Casuarina, a boutique hotel, restaurant and event space owned by Victor Hotels Management since 2013.

American Crime Story execs contacted both Magaldi and Victor Hotels Management early in 2017 when they were getting set to film this latest installment of the Ryan Murphy-produced anthology. A miniseries highlighting the devastation and after-effects of Hurricane Katrina had been planned, but as the 20th anniversary of Versace’s murder approached, this story — broken into 10 episodes and based on Maureen Orth’s 1999 book, Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History — was pushed to the front of the line. The News Café scene was filmed in just one day in May 2017. “They needed a couple of days prior to that, because just the month before we actually had closed down the newsstand; everyone is always on their phones these days, so we didn’t really need it anymore,” Magaldi says. “But they did a great job bringing everything back to what it looked like at that time.”

The production took over Casa Casuarina, meanwhile, for the entire month, Copeland says. “At one point I know they were going back and forth about how they could re-create things as best they could on a Hollywood lot,” he notes. “But then they realized how little we had changed the environments, and they got very excited about filming on site. They didn’t have to do very much to it: They switched out some courtyard furniture for something more of that era, added some vintage chaise lounges by the pool, repainted the gate the color Versace originally had it, and removed some exit signs that are required because we’re a hotel. That’s really it.”

Indeed, it would have been costly to reproduce Versace’s vision on a soundstage. After he purchased the property, the designer reportedly spent $33 million on restoring and enhancing the original 1930 building, which had been conceptualized by Alden Freeman, an architect and heir to the Standard Oil fortune. Casa Casuarina, which takes its name from the species of tree Freeman regretfully razed while constructing his home, had changed hands and fallen into disrepair over the years; it was a dilapidated apartment building with 24 units when Versace discovered it during a South Beach vacation (among the elements that charmed him was a 1928 statue known as Kneeling Aphrodite, installed long ago by Freeman and currently positioned at the front entrance). Versace combined the building’s 24 units into an Italianate villa with 10 bedroom suites; after purchasing and tearing down the property next door, he added both a new wing and a garden with a 54-foot, mosaic-lined pool.

Those 10 bedroom suites remain largely unchanged, Copeland says. Donatella Versace removed furniture, artwork and other personal items, putting most of it on the auction block at Sotheby’s in 2001 after selling Casa Casuarina in 2000 to telecom millionaire Peter Loftin, who tried to make a go of the property as a private club. The current owners painstakingly examined books and old magazine layouts in an effort to reproduce Gianni Versace’s original interiors. “We combed through old photos and available film stock and also spoke with people who had worked with him on the design,” Copeland says. “There were several pieces we had to re-create, but we wanted to be faithful to his original vision.”(It should be noted that Donatella Versace has disavowed the miniseries; on Monday the Italian label released a statement affirming that no one connected with Versace authorized Orth’s book or the resulting screenplay, and that the miniseries should be considered “a work of fiction.”)

During high season — October through April — booking one of the suites can be tough, especially if you want to stay in the connected two-bedroom Villa and Empire suites; Versace slept in the former, which is adjacent to the latter via a lavish vestibule. The decor is as opulent as you might expect, with details ranging from frescoes to double-king beds that stretch 12 feet across. Rates for any of the 10 suites range from $899 to $1,599 per night during the slower summer months on up to $1,399 to $2,999 during high-occupancy periods. Hotel guests also are able to swim in the ultra-glamorous pool, but only until 4 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday. “That’s when we start to set up the restaurant, with tables on the pool deck,” Copeland explains. “On Monday, when the restaurant is closed, you can swim all day.”

Rechristened Gianni’s in 2016, the restaurant features a menu that showcases Mediterranean seafood and is helmed by executive chef Thomas Stewart, who cooked dinner for the James Beard Foundation at Casa Casuarina soon after taking over the kitchen. In addition to the dining room, tables spill over onto a raised terrace and the aforementioned pool deck (during high season, tables also are positioned in the galleries leading to various dining areas). And regardless of season, don’t expect to walk in without a reservation; the privacy of the property remains strictly guarded. “Anyone with a reservation is of course welcome to enter,” Copeland says. “We’re very protective of the space, but that’s also for the enjoyment of our guests.”

Ultimately, with the premiere of the miniseries a week away, has Casa Casuarina been feeling any effects from, say, the release of various trailers, which make it clear that Versace’s beloved South Beach residence was used to its full advantage? “We’ve been on a steady rise in interest the past few years, so it’s really hard to say,” Copeland says. “A lot of people, however, still don’t know that they can stay here and eat here; I have no doubt that interest will increase within the next few months.”

Twenty years later, Magaldi is happy that News Café patrons still seek out the site because of its connection to the most famous neighbor he’ll ever know — not because it’s good for business, though that idea is undeniable, but very simply because he genuinely liked Gianni Versace. “He was very gentle, quiet, unassuming,” Magaldi says. “Everything I saw about the [miniseries] production was that they were trying to be respectful to his memory. That was important to anyone who was here when it happened. That made me feel good about doing it.”

Copeland agrees. “If they bring to film what we saw them doing, I think it’s going to be a very high-quality production,” he says. “From our point of view, what Gianni Versace brought to South Beach was nothing less than heroic. He established himself right here in the middle of things when it was still very edgy and unknown. What happened was a tragedy. But we’ll always feel it’s important to celebrate the man.”

Visiting Versace’s Miami, Where the Memories Haven’t Faded

As Controversy Mounts Over Versace Crime Story, Is it Legal?

Gianni Versace was gunned down on the steps of his Miami Beach mansion in July 1997 by serial killer Andrew Cunanan. Now, just over 20 years after the shocking tragedy, FX is building upon its award-winning American Crime Story series with “The Assassination of Gianni Versace,” a 9-episode take on “the takedown of the day’s most famous fashion designer.” While the network states that the series is “inspired by actual events,” the Versace family has unequivocally called foul … more than once.

A statement from the Italian clan released on Monday reads, “The Versace family has neither authorized nor had any involvement whatsoever in the forthcoming TV series about the death of Mr. Gianni Versace.“

The family, which clearly wants nothing to do with the impending series, further stated that since it did not authorize the book from which the FX series is partly drawn or participate in the writing of the screenplay, “This TV series should only be considered as a work of fiction.”

A subsequent declaration from the Versaces, released on Wednesday, proclaims: "Gianni Versace was a brave and honest man. Of all the possible portrayals of his life and legacy, it is sad and reprehensible that the producers have chosen to present the distorted and bogus version ”

Regardless of an absence of Versace-authorization for the book upon which the series is based – Maureen Orth’s 2000 title Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History – and in lieu of cooperation from the Versaces for the FX series (as indicated by their not one – but two – statements on the matter), the much-anticipated series has a fast-approaching debut date: January 17.

Much has been made of the series thus far; from the casting (Edgar Ramirez as Versace, Darren Criss as Cunanan and Penelope Cruz as Donatella Versace; Cruz says she had a “had a long conversation” with Ms. Versace prior to accepting the role) to the lack of casting (Donatella’s daughter Allegra will not be depicted; she was reportedly removed after demands from Donatella).

However, what has not been discussed, particularly in light of what appears to be increasing animosity from the Versace camp, is the legality of such an unauthorized rendition of the life and death of Gianni Versace.

Is This Legal?

Given the family’s bold statements distancing itself from the soon-to-air series, you may be asking, how – exactly – were writer and executive producer Tom Rob Smith and director/producer Ryan Murphy able to pull this off, legally? How were they able to avoid anticipatory litigation from the Versace family in an attempt to block the making of the series? And how are they not facing a lawsuit now after the series has been preliminarily viewed and reviewed by the press?

The answer is relatively simple (or as simple as the law can ever really be): The First Amendment, the constitutional doctrine that declares that “Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press.”

In much the same way as authorized or unauthorized biographies enjoy strong First Amendment protections in the U.S., so, too, do biographic television or film works. These protections provide a publisher (or television network) with the ability to disseminate “newsworthy” material, including“entertainment materials concerning interesting aspects of a well-known individual’s identity,” as long as there is a reasonable relationship between the person’s identity and the subject of the story. First Amendment protections tend to be so strong that even “the famous Vietnam-era Pentagon Papers case failed though the government asserted that publication of the Defense Department’s documents jeopardized national security,” per the Chicago Tribune.

While we do not have a U.S. military-level case on our hands, of course, we have matter of “public interest,” since the late Mr. Versace was certainly a public figure, and as professor Brian L. Frye of the UK College of Law in Kentucky tells TFL, “Even a quasi-news docudrama is the kind of factual reporting that states cannot prohibit without running afoul of the First amendment.”

Frye notes that “the fact that the series is ‘unauthorized’ is just irrelevant. While people like to talk about acquiring ‘life rights’ [to portray someone in film or television], there is really no such thing.“ This is really just "an agreement not to sue for defamation,” per Frye, which is also irrelevant here since “you cannot defame a dead person.”

In any case, Frye says, “Gianni Versace was surely a public figure, especially in this context, so [the Versace family] would have to show knowing falsehood [on behalf of FX to prevail on such a claim].” The likelihood of that? Slim at best, given to “heavily researched and authenticated” nature of Orth’s book, according to a joint statement from producers Fox 21 Television Studios and FX Productions.

Right of Publicity?

Where the Versace family could fins some luck in toppling the FX series is in a right of publicity claim, according to Frye. The right of publicity is a legal doctrine that gives individuals – or their estates, in some states (such as Florida), if the individual at issue is deceased – considerable exclusive control over the commercial use of their name, likeness and other identity attributes. As for how strong of a case the Versace clan has here, it is probably slim, at best.

First of all, in order to make a case for a right of publicity violation, the use at issue must be “commercial” – i.e. an effort solely to sell a product or a service. This is distinct from an “editorial” or “literary” use. As a result, "writers can write, and film makers are free to make movies about historical figures and events without violating the publicity rights of the subjects,” states First Amendment/media attorney Jack Greiner.

And this is exactly what is at play here. As Frye points out, “Versace is the subject of this series, not a vehicle for endorsing it,” which is relevant because one of the core aims of right of publicity laws (which vary by state) is to guard famous individuals from having their identities or likenesses used to sell or promote a product or service without their authorization.

With this in mind, FindLaw aptly notes that even these publicity rights are trumped by the First Amendment. “Unauthorized biographies [and their on-screen counterparts] are protected by the First Amendment because the right of publicity cannot be used to stifle undesired discussion and legitimate commentary on the lives of public persons.”

After all, without such protections, Greiner posits, "How would anyone write a book or a film in any way critical of anyone if the author had to obtain the subject’s permission before publication?”

This is all to say that if the Versace family does not like the theme – or treatment – of the subject of its latest installation of the American Crime Story series, they do not have to watch it.

As Controversy Mounts Over Versace Crime Story, Is it Legal?

Gianni Versace Muse Cindy Crawford ‘Will Definitely Watch’ the American Crime Story About His Murder

The most highly-anticipated show of the new year is undoubtedly The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, Ryan Murphy’s take on designer Gianni Versace’s 1997 murder outside his Miami mansion. The designer was known for championing supermodels in his campaigns and shows, and one of his frequent collaborators, Cindy Crawford, will be tuning in to see the TV adaptation of her late friend’s life – and death.

“I will definitely watch the show,” Crawford told PEOPLE at Miami’s Art Basel in December. “I did many campaigns for Versace. Gianni loved women and wanted them to feel good. He wanted us to be the stars. He was wonderful. I enjoyed doing the campaigns with them.”

She recently paid tribute to the 20th anniversary of his death during Milan Fashion Week. She joined Gianni’s sister and the brand’s designer Donatella Versace and other original supers including Carla Bruni, Naomi Campbell, Helena Christensen and Claudia Schiffer for a walk down the runway wearing gold “dazzling metal mesh” dresses, Gianni’s signature.

“When I was asked to pay tribute to him a few months ago it was a great experience” she said. “I first asked who else was going to do it. And I was happy my daughter Kaia also was with me for this. We did a real fashion show and both of us had reason to be there. It was an incredible moment for us. Mother and daughter together in that setting.”

Her 16-year-old daughter, Kaia Gerber, opened the show with Gigi and Bella Hadid before the five legends took the catwalk. “It was very emotional for me, and it was amazing for Kaia to see me as I was, not just as her mother,” Crawford said. “The whole tribute had a lasting impression, bringing back memories of more than 20 years ago. It was a moment.” (Though it was a moment complete with a little supermodel mother/daughter bickering – when Gerber found out Crawford had booked the show, Crawford told People, “She’s like, ‘Wait, do we have to walk down together?’ I said, ‘No. I don’t even want to walk down with you. I’m going to walk down with the ladies that are my age. You can go with the girls that are your age.’”)

But as excited as Crawford is to see the series, the brand recently denounced the project.

“The Versace family has neither authorized nor had any involvement whatsoever in the forthcoming TV series about the death of Mr. Gianni Versace,” the brand told PEOPLE in a statement. “Since Versace did not authorize the book on which it is partly based nor has it taken part in the writing of the screenplay, this TV series should only be considered as a work of fiction.”

Gianni’s lover, Antonio D’Amico (played by Ricky Martin) also spoke out against the show, saying some images from production were not factual. “The picture of Ricky Martin holding the body in his arms is ridiculous,” D’Amico told The Observer. “Maybe it’s the director’s poetic license, but that is not how I reacted.”

Gianni Versace Muse Cindy Crawford ‘Will Definitely Watch’ the American Crime Story About His Murder