Lainey McManamy in The JonBenét Game (Don Ipock)
As popular as true crime is, the genre comes pre-loaded with more than its share of ethical pitfalls. True crime can help its audience, which is overwhelmingly female, make sense of their place in a dangerous world. It can be a conduit to processing trauma. It can be a source of bonding. It can also sensationalize tragedy and dehumanize victims. I’ve never seen a work capture all of these facets so honestly and completely as The JonBenét Game.
Written by Tori Keenan-Zelt and currently having its rolling world premiere at The Unicorn Theatre, The JonBenét Game centers on Rae, a young high school teacher living and working in the small Missouri town she grew up in. When the daughter of her estranged childhood best friend moves to town following her mother’s suicide, Rae (Elise Poehling) is drawn to the girl in ways that threaten both her job and her own well-being.
When Hazel (Lainey McManamy) arrives in the small town, she feels alienated from her fellow students and targeted by her teachers. (She’s the kind of kid who wants to have deep, sometimes dark conversations about the work they’re studying—the kinds of conversations that can make some adults uncomfortable.) Hazel finds a biography of JonBenét Ramsey in her mother’s childhood bedroom—now her bedroom—and ends up spending weeks holed up in Rae’s classroom as the two pore over the details of the case together.
As children, Rae and Hazel’s mother, Molly, were obsessed with the six-year-old girl’s 1996 murder. (As was the rest of the country.) In the same way any children would play make-believe games, the girls would reenact Ramsey’s murder. The play alternates between Rae and Molly in the past, and Rae and Hazel bonding over the book in the present, with Poehling playing Rae at both ages and McManamy playing both Hazel and her mother as a young girl. Both are powerhouses.
McManamy’s two characters are distinct, but with a shared obstinacy and vulnerability that really conveys how closely related they are. Meanwhile, Poehling plays Rae at two very different ages, though as her bond with Hazel grows stronger, she seems to regress closer back to her childhood self, blurring the lines between her past and present selves in fascinating ways. (It’s a credit to director Ernie Nolan that these timelines, even with their blurred edges, are clearly defined.)
Rounding out the cast is Julie Shaw as Miss Kay, an older teacher and something of a mentor figure to Rae. There is a sort of Doubt dynamic to the two teachers, with both women’s love for the students manifesting in very different ways, each with different benefits and their own massive hazards. (As with Doubt, I found myself siding strongly with the young, enthusiastic, over-invested teacher, only to find by the end that neither woman’s methods are without dire problems.)
Shaw also appears in one scene as JonBenét’s mother, Patsy Ramsey. I found that single scene to be jarring and its purpose questionable, but Shaw gives an undeniably gripping performance as the girl’s emotionally overburdened mother.
It’s especially interesting that for a genre dominated by violence inflicted onto women by men, all the trauma in The JonBenét Game comes at the hands of other women. In so many different ways, Keenan-Zelt has crafted a truly unique take on a seemingly ubiquitous genre. This play won’t be for everyone, as it grapples with some exceedingly dark elements. But for those with an interest in true crime—or the conversation surrounding it—this is likely to be a compelling watch.
“The JonBenét Game” runs through November 2 at the Unicorn Theatre, 3828 Main St. For more information, visit unicorntheatre.org.
