Here’s How Ricky Martin Is Celebrating His First-Ever Emmy Nomination

Ricky Martin hadn’t had zero acting experience when he was cast as Antonio D’Amico, partner of Gianni Versace (Edgar Ramirez), in Ryan Murphy’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story — he appeared on Glee, some Latin American telenovelas and even General Hospital way back in the day — but the initial announcement came as a surprise to many. Could Ricky Martin of Menudo and “Shake Your Bon-Bon” fame deliver the goods in a real-deal dramatic role on par with those in The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story?

If Martin’s performance didn’t erase all doubt the answer was an emphatic yes, then the announcement heard ‘round the world Thursday did: Martin received an Emmy nod for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Limited Series or Movie. He told TV Guide he found out when he was startled awake by a loud banging on his door. “Mr. Martin! Wake up, it’s an emergency!” shouted a woman who worked for him; he’d gotten home from a recording studio, where he was working on new material, at 4 a.m. His publicist had dispatched the woman to rouse him, and, in the hours since, he’s gotten so many messages his phone’s battery just gave up and shut down. “I don’t even know how I’m feeling,” he said, sounding slightly groggy but obviously thrilled.

He stayed on the line long enough to tell us four things we didn’t know about his star turn on American Crime Story. Keep scrolling for the full Martin tea.

1. The scene that earned Martin a nod had a key edit that the actor himself asked to change up on set.
Martin traversed between catatonic despair, joy and humiliation when Gianni’s sister Donatella (Penelope Cruz) shut him out of the Versace family business and home. Martin, who has previously described the experience of shooting the series at the Versace mansion as supernatural, credited Murphy’s direction and the sense of trust he created on set as the reason he got noticed — even if the license Martin took surely played a part too.

“Ryan is very specific about the things he needs but once you commit to those things, he lets you fly,” he said. Martin asked for permission to actually hold Gianni’s bloody body in the now unforgettable scene when Antonio discovers his partner had been shot. “Ryan said, ‘Why?’ I said, ‘I need to feel him,’ and I asked Edgar if I could hold him. I was just bawling. They were very difficult emotions to tap into.”

2. While the recognition is great, what makes Martin the happiest is the fact that justice prevailed, even if it was delayed.
Martin’s role wasn’t just good but resonant too; only eight years have passed since Martin publicly came out (on his website) and the now married father of two, who’s been famous most of his life, is intimately knowledgable about dealing with homophobia and the pressure to stay closeted as a celebrity, which Versace explores in depth.

“To be recognized by your peers — it doesn’t matter how cool you try to act…it is the industry telling you you’ve done a good job. But for me most important [is that] the show means justice prevailed. We all jumped into this show because of the need to shed some light into this world. The FBI never caught (Andrew Cunanan, played by Darren Criss) in Miami, which is a small city and [Andrew] was not hiding. I guess the FBI said, ‘It’s a gay man killing gay man, look the other way and let it happen.’ We have to be careful because history tends to repeat itself. This heavy atmosphere we’re dealing with — the xenophobic atmosphere, the racism — we have to stand up and be aware, eyes wide open to stop injustice.”

3. Martin’s already planning on making the most of his nomination — and right now that means celebrating with his castmates and family.
Martin said he’s going to look for “any excuse to throw a little party” and that starts with his Versace teammates. He’s going to Spain in a few days, so he’ll look up Penelope Cruz, he said, and though Edgar Ramirez is in Atlanta, he’s already making plans to turn all the way up this weekend with Darren Criss and Ryan Murphy — possibly at his house.

As for the most important people in his life — his family — he’s pretty sure he knows how they’re going to react. “My husband [artist Jwan Yosef] and my kids put up with a lot — my frustration and crying…My husband says to me, ‘I forgot I was married to Ricky, all of a sudden I’m married to Antonio.’” His 10 year old sons are in camp, he said, and he has no plans to interrupt their idyllic summer moment to tell them papa got nominated for the highest award possible in TV. “They’re somewhere else. ‘Dad, look at this! Look at this kick!’ They’ll care, they’ll say ‘Congratulations Papi!’ and they’ll be on to the next.”

4. He knows what he’s wearing to the Emmys in September.
Martin said he’d wear something “conceptual and chic” the night of the ceremony, but importantly he knows just where to put that glossy hardware if he’s lucky enough to bring it home: right next to his two Grammys.

Here’s How Ricky Martin Is Celebrating His First-Ever Emmy Nomination

2018 Emmy Nominations by the Numbers

1: Confirmed number of amazing butts among nominees (Darren Criss)

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38: People of color nominated for Emmys in major categories, which more than doubles last year: Sterling K. Brown and Ron Cephas Jones, This Is Us; Tracee Ellis Ross, Anthony Anderson and Wanda Sykes, black-ish; Donald Glover, Zazie Beetz, Katt Williams and Brian Tyree Henry, Atlanta; Leslie Jones, Kenan Thompson, Tiffany Haddish, Saturday Night Live; Tituss Burgess,Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt; Jeffrey Wright and Thandie Newton,Westworld; Samira Wiley and Kelly Jenrette, The Handmaid’s Tale; Regina King, Seven Seconds; RuPaul Charles, Drag Race; W. Kamau Bell, United Shades of America: With W. Kamau Bell; Issa Rae, Insecure; Sandra Oh, Killing Eve; Trevor Noah, Daily Show; Antonio Banderas, Genius: Picasso; Penelope Cruz, Ricky Martin, Darren Criss and Edgar Ramirez, The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story;Brandon Victor Dixon and John Legend, Jesus Christ Superstar; Cicely Tyson, How to Get Away with Murder; Viola Davis, Scandal; Adina Porter, American Horror Story: Cult; Letitia Wright, Black Mirror; Maya Rudolph, The Good Place; Lin-Manuel Miranda, Curb Your Enthusiasm; John Leguizamo, Waco

6: Number of Latinx performers nominated, including Antonio Banderas, Penelope Cruz, Edgar Ramirez, Ricky Martin, John Leguizamo and Lin-Manuel Miranda

2018 Emmy Nominations by the Numbers

The Assassination of Versace Showed How Everyone Pays a Steep Price for Homophobia

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story creator Ryan Murphy said from the start that this iteration of the anthology series was about the impact of societal homophobia. That’s summed up, quite ironically, in one heartbreaking scene in the finale in which neither Gianni Versace or his killer Andrew Cunanan appear. It’s the moment that Gianni Versace’s (Edgar Ramirez) domestic partner Antonio D’Amico (Ricky Martin) tells Gianni’s sister Donatalla (Penelope Cruz) that he intends to stay at one of Gianni’s houses as he recovers from his partner’s murder. “The houses belong to the company,” she told him, barely concealing the disdain the real Donatella has acknowledged in press.

They’d been together for decades but that didn’t matter to his partner’s Catholic family. He didn’t even get acknowledged in the funeral service, but was sent packing in his time of mourning, which is just one of the f***d-up type of situations marriage equality activists fought to remedy with same-sex marriage. Until the Supreme Court legalized same sex marriage in 2015, countless LGBT/queer people knew this same kind of sting: being barred from the hospital rooms of sick partners; legally barred from going into the homes of deceased partners by family; forbidden visitation of children they helped raise after separation.

In its finale, Versace sewed up its grand message about homophobia — not just the injustice of it, but the costs. Though Versace has all the Ryan Murphy hallmarks — glamour, media, sex, celebrity and a central societal theme, this iteration of American Crime Story had a main message that’s not as overt or accessible as The People v OJ Simpson’s statements on race, class, celebrity and male privilege. Instead, Versace whispered its point throughout its intoxicating making-of-a murderer story. Anti-gay bias has been woven into the fabric of America’s institutions, and it showed: discrimination does more than just hurt feelings, and the harm it inflicts isn’t limited to just the gay community. Versace revealed the prejudice, ignorance and fear — particularly in government agencies that are supposed to help citizens — that created the circumstances that allowed Andrew to kill five people.

“It’s my most personal work,” Murphy told TV Guide in January. He affirmed that the story was indeed his form of activism. “I was very adamant about doing this because I came of age during this period. I understood the era: the violence of it, the threat of it. When I started, some of the executives were incredibly homophobic and said jaw-dropping things to me. I think people still marginalize gay creators and gay people. I still feel it.”

Questions, more so than answers, help conceive how fully the poisonous prejudice seeped into society. How much time and money and potential did Americans waste on recruiting, feeding, clothing, and training people like Jeff Trail (Finn Wittrock), who’d leave the Navy because of his sexual orientation? What did American institutions lose by shaming them into hiding or leaving the armed forces, rather than protecting them? Would Marilyn Miglin’s (Judith Light) husband and children still have their patriarch Lee Miglin if detectives hadn’t let silly cliches — like the “love triangle” theory floated when Andrew and David went missing — inform their work? Might the FBI have caught Andrew sooner if agents had engaged the gay community as Detective Lori Wieder (Dascha Polanco) urged from the beginning rather than ignoring the deaths of, as Ronnie (Max Greenfield) put it, “a bunch of nobody gays?” How many lives are put in jeopardy, or worse, when someone like the drifter who bludgeoned Lincoln Aston gets off by invoking the gay panic defense? What greatness could Andrew’s talents have produced had he not been filled with shame and self-loathing all his life and told he was inherently sick for being gay? What’s really changed in the 20 years since?

A lot, but Versace hints that the pop culture achievements of our newly gay-friendly zeitgeist — the Drag Races and the Love, Simons and Ryan Murphy himself — are tenuous, thin advancements inside a system that’s still biased. After all, Gianni Versace was beloved by the media, the wealthy coastal elites who bought his clothes and the A-list celebrities who came to his shows, but his coming out still put the entire business at risk. His partner only got a portion of what he was due because he’d have had zero power in court. Versace is a paean to one of the greatest artists the world ever knew, but it also tallies the destruction of prejudice that has yet to be fully rooted out. That’s why Murphy, who will also debut Pose and Boys in the Band on Broadway this year, fought to tell this story and others like it, and it’s why he’s committed to hiring more directors who are female, people of color, queer, or intersections of the above. “All these projects are about asking one question,” he said. “Have we really come far enough? I think the answer is no.”

The Assassination of Versace Showed How Everyone Pays a Steep Price for Homophobia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Darren Criss’ Magnificent Ass in The Assassination of Versace Deserves Its Own Emmy

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The engravers who etch winners’ names on Emmy statues might as well start practicing “Darren Criss” now, since his terrifying performance as Andrew Cunanan in The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Storywill likely make all other nominees want to just stay home. He’s spellbinding, and deserves all the accolades for transforming into a homicidal madman. He is also the vessel through which another unsung Versacestar blesses all who bear witness, and that star is Darren Criss’ magnificent ass. Darren Criss’ ass deserves its own Emmy, Golden Globe and whatever other awards are available. Had Darren Criss farted in Versace, that ass would deserve a Grammy.

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Darren Criss’ Magnificent Ass in The Assassination of Versace Deserves Its Own Emmy

The Man Who Delivered All the Shade and Sass on The Assassination of Versace Has an Awesome Ryan Murphy Story

Unlike his other hits, Ryan Murphy’s macabre and sometimes downright scary The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story has little to no hilarious moments — that is, until Episode 6, when one of Norman Blachford’s friends Gallo shows up to tear Norman’s live-in con artist friend Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss) to shreds. “Only the queen of England has two parties,” Gallo quips to Andrew, who’s convinced his benefactor to fund two soirees.“I’m afraid you’re not that sort of queen.” But the zinger of all zingers comes when Gallo shoots the unforgettable searing dagger, “What a volatile mix you are — too lazy to work and too proud to be kept.” Gallo, as the kids say, read that bitch for filth.

Gallo’s lines are expert examples of the gay tradition of “reading” and “throwing shade,” but the wig-singeing sass with which the barbs are delivered is hardly accidental: the man tearing Andrew a new one is Terry Sweeney — a pioneering writer/performer who was the first openly gay cast member of Saturday Night Live.

Sweeney’s casting in Versace has several layers of resonance — mostly because Sweeney is a living embodiment of the series’ main thesis about societal homophobia. Despite becoming memorable for his impersonations of celebrities including Nancy Reagan, Joan Rivers and Diana Ross during his run from 1980-1986, Sweeney spent 10 years after SNL out of work, as Hollywood balked at hiring an out gay actor. But that’s only partly why Sweeney’s scene-stealing role in Versace feels like a full circle moment. In his early SNL days, a young gay reporter reached out to interview him for a story. That reporter’s name? Ryan Murphy.

“I was one of the first people he ever interviewed,” says Sweeney, who left Hollywood for Beaufort, S.C. in the mid-2000s. “I could tell he was a young kid and we had a great interview and he wrote a lovely article about me. Who would dream years later someone that works for him would find me and hire me for this part?”

Sweeney got the part after meeting a producer for Versace at a dinner party in Ojia, Calif., a small, New Age-y town about two hours northwest of Los Angeles. “He was looking at me during dinner and said, ‘You’re the person we’ve been looking for, you’re Gallo.’” Not mentioned in the source material for the show Vulgar Favors, Gallo seems to be a composite of Norman Blachford’s older, wealthy friends who were trying to warn Norman about Andrew. It’s Sweeney’s first dramatic role. “I can now officially call myself a drama queen,” he quips. Director Gwyneth Horder-Patyon patiently guided him through relaxing into his body, “doing less” for the camera and reminding him of Gallo’s purpose. “She wanted me to be a tough, scary old queen” he says. “Gay people, drag queens — we have this ferocity we can call upon that is fearless and it’s intense. That’s what I was calling upon in that character, our strength.”

In the years after Saturday Night Live, Sweeney called on that strength as well as self-reliance to keep afloat. He wrote for movies (Shag), sketch comedy (MadTV) and got parts here and there; Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David hired him to tussle over a tennis racket with Elaine on Seinfeld, and he got roles on Family Matters and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. But for a gifted comic actor with several seasons of SNL under his belt, the offers were nowhere near what they should have been, a fact Sweeney recounts somewhat ruefully but with a sugary aplomb rather than the bitterness that could’ve easily consumed him. “At that time [gay people] were so invisible. People said ‘Wow, you’re so brave I would never want to destroy my career like that.’ Or ‘Why couldn’t you say you just haven’t met the right girl yet? Well, the right girl would have to have a penis. People would call you in to audition and the agent would go ‘They went another way. And you’re like, ‘Hmm what could that mean?’”

As Versace depicts, Sweeney’s early adult years coincided with rampant anti-gay discrimination that not only affected his career prospects but also seeped into everyday life. His time on SNL ran parallel with the onslaught of AIDS — the day he signed his contract, newsstands blared the news that Rock Hudson had contracted the disease — and he, like many other creatives in New York, lost friends in droves. The irony of impersonating Nancy Reagan, who, along with her husband Ronald famously refused to acknowledge AIDS, wasn’t lost on him. “They were acting like nothing was happening. I thought really? I’ve been to 10 memorials for people who are in their 20s. So something is happening. I hate to ruin your dinner on your new china.”

The death toll ebbed in the 1990s but the institutionalized homophobia lingered; Sweeney recalls a confrontation with a police officer in Beverly Hills who’d hurled a slur in his direction around 1994. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. I said, ‘Hey! I’m a faggot. I live in Beverly Hills, and this faggot pays your salary and doesn’t want to hear you talking about him like this in a public place!” Even so-called liberal spaces weren’t an entirely safe haven: Sweeney turned down an appearance on a “coming out”-themed episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show because a producer told him he couldn’t talk about drag on TV. “[The producer] says, ‘We’re trying to put a positive image out about gay people, that you’re not freaks; you’re just like everyone else.’”

Now married (he and longtime writing partner Lanier Laney have been together 36 years) and the author of a comic memoir Irritable Bowels and the People Who Give You Them, Sweeney is keenly aware of how humor can be a weapon against bigotry. But he’s grateful for the activists too, for being unafraid to get confrontational when it’s called for. “It’s time for all kinds of people to reassert themselves. Whether it’s kids protesting guns, African-Americans…all kinds of groups are coming out together.” Versace, he says, does a good job of showing just a small piece of what gay people were up against only 20 years ago; it is, as Ryan Murphy told TV Guide, a work of activism in its own rite. Of course, Sweeney and Murphy were thrilled to reunite so many decades later, the resonance of the occasion not lost on either of them.

“We just love each other,” Sweeney says. “He was a joy to work with. He loved what I did and he was quoting my lines. I have so much respect for what he does.” Recognizing the shift that’s taken place in society and Hollywood, he’s back in Los Angeles, ready to share his talents one more time. “I want to do worthwhile work,” he says. “I think now there’s more opportunity than ever.”

The Man Who Delivered All the Shade and Sass on The Assassination of Versace Has an Awesome Ryan Murphy Story

The Assassination of Gianni Versace Actor Explains Why David Madson Didn’t Run

[Caution: Spoilers about Episode 4 of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story ahead!]

FX’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story is now, and for the foreseeable future, the story of how Andrew Cunanan became one of the FBI’s most wanted during his 1997 murder spree. That story becomes especially disturbing in Episode 4, “House by the Lake,” which includes the gruesome depiction of Jeff Trail’s (Finn Wittrock) murder, filmed more or less exactly as it happened according to the source material Vulgar Favors.

More will be explained later in the series, but Jeff, a clean-cut Naval alum who was closeted for most of his life, befriended Andrew (played by (Darren Criss) in San Francisco. Over time, he got fed up with Andrew’s constant lies and manipulation and tried to cut him off. Andrew and Jeff were also friends with David Madson, a man Andrew dated briefly who eventually tried to cut him off for the same reasons. Jeff was the first person Andrew killed. It was his most barbaric attack too, ambushing him in David’s apartment as depicted. But the terror didn’t stop there. For several days after killing their friend Jeff, Andrew took David Madson (Cody Fern) on the run with him, and David made no known attempt to call authorities or escape.

As Ryan Muphy did with The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story, Versace makes decades-old events, the outcomes of which are already public knowledge, feel like they’re happening in the exact moment. Darren Criss’ intoxicating performance makes Jeff’s murder and David’s unforced captivity urgent and believable too — so much so that it’s almost impossible to watch the scenes play out and not hope, scream or pray that David runs. Of course, no one can know what was said between them in some of the moments portrayed — whether Andrew constrained David with explicit threats or by psychological manipulation will forever remain a mystery. But the tragic truth is that David died at Andrew’s hand. From April 27, when Jeff was murdered, until David’s body was found May 3, David stayed with the man who later killed him, likely terrified. But why didn’t he run? For Fern, the question was central to playing David on screen.

“I think it’s such a complex bag of questions,” he told TV Guide. “He was Andrew’s lover. He’d experienced something traumatic — he was in shock. He was afraid for other people’s lives as much as he was afraid for his life.”

David and Andrew met in December of 1995, according to Maureen Orth’s Vulgar Favors. Their relationship was built on fraud and manipulation from the start: Andrew was living with an older rich man, Norman Blachford, during a good chunk of their relationship, so he didn’t let David call him or send mail with a return address. Andrew plied David with gifts though, as he did many people, and indulged his S&M fantasies with David until Andrew’s increasingly rough sexual demands became a source of strife between them. They broke up in the spring of 1996, but Andrew kept David’s picture taped to his refrigerator door. When his life began to crumble as a result of constant deception and drug use, Andrew became fixated on the idea that David was his only love. As it happens, Andrew wasn’t David’s only unstable lover, either: a previous ex had become a stalker, calling David as much as 120 times a day and eventually being jailed for violating a court order to stay away. In any case, Madson was a “peacemaker,” Orth wrote, a man who loathed violence and avoided confrontation. He frequently talked his way out of things.

Vulgar Favors’ intensely researched study of Andrew and David gives it license to theorize why David didn’t try to flee. Andrew knew David avoided confrontation and was squeamish around violence. Orth even speculates that the handcuffs and leg restraints Andrew enjoyed could’ve been used to hold David captive. More than likely though, Andrew simply kept David paralyzed with fear. Experts in the book said that Andrew could’ve easily convinced David that he’d be a suspect if he went to police, which is exactly how Versace depicted depicted their relationship. A law enforcement official said that the brute force shown in the murder would’ve easily convinced David that Andrew had power over him, instilling a fear that’s common in violent abusive relationships. The intense fear of retribution — even after a break — makes the Stockholm syndrome theory in David’s case not at all surprising. Other issues were at play too.

“He was also a man dealing with an intense amount of shame in the 90s,” said Fern. Though David’s father told Orth he never treated his son any differently after David came out to him, his religious beliefs mandated that David’s sexual orientation was a sin he disapproved of. Though David wasn’t religious in the traditional sense, he absorbed his dad’s values. After the initial shock wore off, “[David] is asking himself, ‘Is his man redeemable?’” Fern said. “He’s asking himself, ‘How am I complicit in this? I let my friend in — I brought him into the apartment. This my fault.’”

When he was found, David had been shot three times. Orth quotes a sergeant as saying David probably got taken by surprise: he had defense wounds on his hands and his body had apparently been dragged about 20 feet from where his killing took place. It’s possible David was methodically plotting an escape — perhaps sweet-talking Andrew while psyching himself up to make a bold move. That thinking, Fern said, informs the scene with Andrew where David calls himself a coward and then attempts to commandeer the Jeep’s steering wheel in a moment of desperate bravery. “The important thing to remember is that this is a man going through something more intense than anyone could ever imagine,” Fern said.

It’ll remain a tragic unanswered question, rooted in both men’s deeply embedded shame and guilt over their sexual orientation, and fears how people would perceive them no matter what they did. “That was the whole journey of the character,” Fern said. “The whole character arc is about that question. Why didn’t [David] run?”

The Assassination of Gianni Versace Actor Explains Why David Madson Didn’t Run

TV ready to unleash array of LGBT themes, characters

Malcolm Venable, TVGuide.com, senior editor, West Coast

“Versace” is essential television. Lush, vivid, intensely terrifying and relevant for its messages. Great performances from Judith Light, Penelope Cruz and Edgar Ramirez but Darren Criss is life-changing. And, surprise: don’t expect much Versace. It’s about Andrew Cunanan.

TV ready to unleash array of LGBT themes, characters

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