TV Retrospective: "American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace"

Darren Criss
To an extent, the latest season of American Crime Story, titled The Assassination of Giani Versace, worked as a hat trick. Unlike last season's exploration of the familiar O.J. Simpson trial, the second season chose to work backwards after introducing the titular murder in the opening scene. It's brief, staggering, and seems predictable for those not familiar with Andrew Cunanan's actual story. It's going to be a trial that explores every gritty detail, right? Well, not exactly. While the story does go into Versace's own declining health, he isn't really an entity in this story. Cunanan is front and center, and creator Ryan Murphy is more obsessed with something else: not the how, but the why. Why did Andrew Cunanan think to murder Versace? The answer, which gets answered by the season's end, is far more psychological and less convenient than the first season. In that way, the series proved its strength to not simply follow conventions. In fact, it proved that Murphy once again is here to reinvent the miniseries, and that's perfectly fine.
Simply put: who is Andrew Cunanan, the man who murdered Versace in spite of worshiping him to the point of dressing and acting like a stuck-up client in public? The answer is difficult to answer in a linear fashion, as the early tragic roots are far more compelling than where things end up. It's likely why Murphy and crew were eager to move backwards through a life story that saw a socialite perform another series of murders, but also deal with an issue even more frustrating: the homophobia of 90's culture. Cunanan wasn't just a man driven to murder by jealousy or anger. He was the product of a world that hated his homosexuality, wishing him to be dead or submissive; never able to express himself in a way that's satisfying. The media pushed him into a certain madness, not to mention his personal relationships that caused him to feel helpless.
It all feels so tragic, especially to watch in reverse. If the murder of Versace seemed like the series' shocking low point, just stick around a few episodes. There's an exploration of Cunanan's complicated history in detail, including the military's "Don't ask, don't tell" policy, and even relationships that were formed on lies. Episodes ranged from sprawling commentaries to more intimate struggles for Cunanan to relate on a personal level. All the while, there's still this cryptic belief that underneath this psychopath, there is some form of compassion to be mined. It all becomes clearer, serving as a mystery far greater than the murder. By the end, Murphy has created one of his most compelling subjects. How do you sympathize with a murderer? For a creator known for sloppy and inconsistent portrayals, The Assassination of Giani Versace manages to have some of his most assured, effective work yet.
It does help that at the center is Cunanan, played by Darren Criss. He is a man who looks happy and innocent, capable of taking on the world. The only issue is that the insular struggles become more apparent as time goes on. The smile begins to fade in favor of the depression underneath. He is a victim,  too insecure to just let the pain consume him. He lashes out, looking for acceptance wherever he can get it. It's one of the greatest performances on TV this year, and it helps that the slow reveal of deeper and darker details all lead to something more compelling. Suddenly the smile seems tragic, and the world is darker than it seemed. It not only understands what's wrong with Cunanan, but also the world that despises his identity. It's all uncomfortable, and it's genuinely why it works.
Versace may be a supporting character in his own story, but even his health struggle captures a different angle to what makes this story so compelling. He is a gay man with clout in the fashion world, looking to keep his legacy alive long beyond his imminent death. His conflict with his sister and boyfriend drive a different kind of bitterness, which captures a bit of a melancholy in his world. He is adored by his peers, but what does it say to a world where he is an exception? The story juxtaposes these two men against each other because they both start the series a bit weary, feeling like the world has destroyed them in different ways. It becomes symbolic of something richer, which is the struggle of gay culture in America. What does it mean if you're constantly oppressed either by health or by the world around you? By the end, both of their health declines in a way that's poetic and just good story telling.
The Assassination of Gianni Versace may not be as accessible to the pop culture landscape as that of season one, but it does prove that the crime series isn't going to immediately fall into conventions. If anything, it is going to be just as unpredictable as the fictional counterpart that Murphy originally gained fame for. This season was more thematic, about a struggle that is just as prominent in American society as that of race relations. The treatment of gays in any form has been problematic, so to see the story get a compelling analysis is welcomed. Criss sells the entire show, and leaves behind one of the best hat tricks that Murphy ever pulled. The backwards story may seem a bit hokey, but it definitely works this time in ways that going forward couldn't. It's like digging a hole to find buried treasure, and doing it the other way would just look foolish.


Overall Grade: 4 out of 5

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