‘The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’ Episode 6 Recap: Somebody to Love

“He’s a house. He’s a home. He’s a yard and a family and picking kids up from school…he’s a future.”

“They say this man…this man has nothing left to give. And a man with nothing to give is a nothing man….This world has wasted me.”

Ominously directed by Gwyneth Horder-Payton and featuring absolutely stunning dialogue from series writer Tom Rob Smith, “Descent,” the sixth episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, is the first and only episode so far to steer entirely clear of murder and its aftermath. Yet somewhere between those two statements above — the first is a description of his beloved David Madsen to his friend Lizzie, the second a description of himself to a meth-induced nightmare vision of Gianni Versace — Andrew Cunanan dies. The old Andrew, anyway, the Andrew capable of warmth and charm and moments of honesty amid the lies. It’s not hard to identify the specific spark of vitality that gets snuffed out to make his dark rebirth into the new, lethal Andrew happen, either. When his hope dies, the old Andrew dies with it.

“Descent” depicts some of the final normal, happy moments of Andrew’s life, or at least as normal and happy as Andrew’s life ever really gets. In splendid fashion, it introduces us first to the high-rolling luxury lifestyle afforded him by his status as the live-in designer/decorator/boyfriend of his wealthy benefactor Norman Blachford (Michael Nouri, dignified and excellent), then to Norman himself, on the eve of a lavish birthday party being thrown in Andrew’s honor. There’s even a return to the slightly fisheyed lens that captured the Versace palace in Miami during the cold open of the premiere, a visual indicator of splendor that’s almost too big to be contained by the camera. At this point Cunanan is living like an idle member of a wealthy Game of Thrones house, lounging naked on the balcony before swimming naked in the pool while Laura Branigan’s shit-hot single “Self Control” gives him an air of anachronistic ’80s cool.

But even if this cold open doesn’t end with a murder the way the first episode’s did, it does end with this stark reminder of the horror soon to come:

How do we get there from here? A combination of factors. Like the dark clouds that loom in the background of the otherwise perfect party in the hills (a weather detail Horder-Payton makes subtle but stunning use of), trouble is brewing in paradise. Andrew is beginning to drive away his friend Jeff Trail with his constant embellishments and lies; in this case, they involve dummying up a fancy fake gift for Jeff to present him as a present in lieu of a real one, just so he looks better in front of David Madson, the would-be love of his life and the unwitting guest of honor at the party.

Andrew also forces Jeff into the painful position of pretending to still be an officer in the Navy, a wound you can see is still very raw with him. (“It just sounds so impressive.” “I know it does.” Oof.) “I just need him to see that I’m loved,” Andrew tells Jeff as he presents him the ringer gift. “I do love you, buddy!” Jeff says, attempting both to reassure Andrew that this is true and, it seems, reassure himself that Andrew deserves it.

This is a fixation for Cunanan, and not one he simply cites while forcing friends to be complicit in his lies. He’s more open and direct about it with Lizzie, when she asks him point blank “Who are you trying to be?” “Someone he can love,” he replies. The sadness here is deep enough to fill an in-ground pool. In his own weird way, he’s reaching out desperately for genuine affection. You can’t help but wonder if, had he been more genuine himself, he would have gotten it.

Meanwhile, Andrew’s relationship with Norman is beginning to sour, even relative to its already transactional nature. Smitten as he is with David, Andrew can’t help but become more obvious about his lack of interest in Norman and his attempt to woo his other man. Norman’s friend David Gallo (SNL vet Terry Sweeney, thoroughly delightful here) is a true queen of thorns, and he’s got Andrew’s number from the jump. The two men exchange catty, cutting insults like an antagonistic pair of characters in a sitcom, but it takes a turn for the serious when Gallo corners Andrew outside the bathroom where he’s just gotten high. Norman, Gallo says, built a company from scratch, then reeled with grief after watching his previous, more serious partner waste away and die from AIDS, a horror he feels Andrew couldn’t possibly comprehend. Gallo himself sounds like he’d rather die than see his friend hurt again, an innate core of decency that shines through all the Wildean put-downs and bon mots. “That room,” Andrew says as he withdraws from the confrontation, “is full of people who love me.” “Then that room is full of people who don’t know you,” Gallo calls after him.

And what does Andrew do after fleeing his enemy’s brutal read? He runs interference between David and Jeff, two people he ostensibly cares about, because he sees they’re hitting it off. There’s a great bit where Andrew cockblocks by mentioning Jeff’s boyfriend, who may or may not actually exists. “Is he still working at that mall?” he says with false good cheer. Without missing a beat, Jeff replies “…he works for a living, yes.” It’s not clear if Andrew, whom Gallo says is “too lazy to work, too proud to be kept,” realizes he’s just been insulted again. He then blows off none other than Lee Miglin, whose presence at the party makes it more difficult for Andrew to make his move on David. Finally he stages a photo op with Norman, Lee, David, and Jeff — “All the people I love!” Gallo was right, man. Gallo was right about all of it.

Anyway, at some point after the party Andrew presents Norman with a preposterous list of demands if he is to continue gracing the older man with his presence. Norman, firmly but not unkindly, replies by revealing that he knows everything Andrew has told him about his life, including his last name, is a lie. “You investigated me?” Andrew says indigantly. “You investigated me,” Norman replies. He understands that Cunanan researched and targeted him to gain access to his wealth. The thing is, he doesn’t even really care! He cares more about the lies (“I already have a PhD.” “You do not have a PhD!”), the laziness (“What is it about having an education and the idea of work that you find so insulting?”), and the squandered potential (“Being smart is useless unless it’s in the service of something.”). So, despite his affection and admiration for Andrew, which is sincere despite it all, he breaks things off. In response, Andrew breaks a glass table. Violence is starting to creep in around the edges.

It bleeds through more strongly when Jeff comes to see Andrew in his new, barren apartment, furious that Cunanan sent a postcard to his parents’ house that nearly outed him. “How funny,” Andrew replies with a sneer. Jeff slams him up against a wall, ordering him to stay away from his family; “I never thought that you were capable of being violent,” Cunanan replies with self-righteous shock. But when he hears Jeff is moving to Minneapolis for a job David hooked him up with, his own command that Jeff stay away from David has the unmistakable tinge of violence to it as well. Andrew’s last-ditch attempt to spark something with David by blowing all his credit on an absurdly lavish hotel weekend, where even his attempts to be honest about his upbringing sound, sadly, like utter horseshit, is not enough to convince David that Andrew’s marriage material.

Then come the drugs — serious, shooting-up drugs — the hallucinations about Versace as a man who just got lucky while Andrew didn’t, and a scene straight out of Less Than Zero (the real-life Andrew’s favorite movie) in which he stumbles, fucked-up and desperate, through the hills and onto Norman’s estate, pounding on the glass door and begging for help as his ex calls the cops on him. Things are literally going downhill. That’s the difference between Versace and Andrew, according to the dream-Gianni: “I’m loved.” Andrew is not.

The episode ends where, perhaps, it has to: at Andrew’s mother’s place. She’s the one person who will always love him, in her own revolting way, but it’s love he doesn’t want, can barely stand. It’s painful to watch as she treats him like a child, sexualizes her care for him, uses his fake success in the costume-design industry as a cudgel with which to beat frienemies she resents, expresses horror at his assertion that he’ll never have children. She bathes him like baby, the inverse of his nude solo pool swim.

He leaves for his final rendezvous with Jeff and David the next day. His voice as he says “Goodbye, Mom,” is not harsh, but it’s hopeless. And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Minneapolis to be born?