Opera Meets Film” is a feature dedicated to exploring the way that opera has been employed in cinema. We will select a section or a film in its entirety, highlighting the impact that utilizing the operatic form or sections from an opera can alter our perception of a film that we are viewing. This week’s installment will take a look at a TV series, “The Assassination of Gianni Versace.”
“The Assassination of Gianni Versace” is not a series replete with opera, but it does utilize the artform in a couple of ways in the first two of nine episodes.
In the context of the series, the artform works on a few different levels and fulfills unique functions. The first episode explores two such expressions of the artform and the results are layered explorations of structured storytelling through music.
The first of these comes in the middle of the first episode when Andrew Cunanan heads over to the opera to see “Capriccio,” a work for which Versace created the costumes. The scene at the opera features moments from the opera’s climax, in which the Countess considers which of the two lovers she prefers. The lyrical beauty and sweep of the moment is filmed with two contrasting images of Versace and Cunanan, one behind the stage and the other in the audience. The filmmaking and music connects them in the moment; they will enjoy a moment together thereafter, but the interesting thing about this moment is how it is counterpointed by one later in the episode.
As commotion breaks out around the death of Versace in front of his home, we start to here soprano Natalie Dessay sing the famed aria “O quante volte.” This aria, from “I Capuletti ed I Montecchi,” shows Giulietta wondering about her beloved Romeo, who she has not seen recently. While the aria’s text supports the pain of Versace’s lover Antonio D’Amico in this sequence, it also harkens back to the previous “Capriccio” sequence with Cunanan and the titular character. In this scene, we also see intercuts between the reaction to the dead body and Cunanan’s own escape. What is most chilling is that at the apex of this sequence, the music still in full bloom, Cunanan stops by a television to watch the reports from in front of Versace’s mansion. “Capriccio” was Versace’s spectacle and Cunanan was his audience. But here, the roles have shifted – Cunanan has turned creator and the world is watching his spectacle, much as we saw Versace experiencing his creation backstage.
The musical choices anchor the connections quite prominently, particularly because the series itself opens with the yearning Adagio by Albinoni. Through a montage very similar to the “Quante volte” sequence, we see Versace go through a morning routine while Cunanan prepares to kill him; it all climaxes in the assassination and thus the first episode starts and essentially ends with two pieces of Italian classical literature, anchored by an operatic passage in the middle (it’s worth noting that the series also concludes with the Albinoni, adding to the structural acuteness of the entire nine episodes).
On a bigger scale, a look at the series also reveals the choices of the music as character driven. Cunanan is the main character in the entire series and the exploration of his fractured psyche is the main concern for the filmmakers. As such, the music throughout navigates a wide realm of styles and genres. But classical music and opera only ever appears in connection to Versace himself, a clear expression of his connection to his European heritage; it makes him stand out amongst the other characters in the story, as none have the world-wide renown that he possesses throughout the story.
