The first thing you see in HBO’s two-part Murder in Glitterball City is the face of a man named Joey Banis. He sits down in front of a webcam, eyes darting offscreen, staying uncomfortably silent. Banis reads off a piece of paper and announces to whom it may concern that they are watching a suicide video. He claims to have killed someone and wishes to absolve his lover Jeffery Mundt of all responsibility. As the story unfolds, we realize Banis is referring to the murder of Jamie Carroll, a local hair salon owner and drag queen. The video is a gripping opening, instantly sparking questions about how Banis and Mundt ended up here. But as the documentary unfolds, directors Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato challenge the viewer’s initial assumptions and reveal something much darker in the process.
Joey Banis and Jeffrey “Jase” Mundt first met in 2009 on a dating app called Adam4Adam. Mundt was a relatively straitlaced gay man coming out of a long-term relationship. Banis, with his tattoos and mohawk, was the exact opposite of his usual type and seemed enticing. After months of dating, the two bought a house in Belgravia Court, a Victorian-style neighborhood, and were seemingly happy together. However, their loved ones could notice a growing tension and, eventually, the two separated.
In July of 2010, Mundt called 911 from their home claiming that Banis was breaking in to attack him. Police arrived promptly and arrested Banis before any serious harm was done. While detained, Banis made the shocking claim that he and Mundt had buried Jamie Carroll’s body in their basement six months earlier. All of this information comes directly from David Dominé’s 2021 true-crime novel, A Dark Room in Glitter Ball City. As a longtime resident and tour guide, Dominé felt uniquely qualified to write about the events. Humorously, almost every interview subject who read the book mentions something he got wrong.
As Dominé tells it, “Glitter Ball City” is an old nickname for Louisville, Kentucky, due to its history of producing disco balls and its strong queer population. Most of the interview subjects are gay men and drag queens who either knew the main couple or knew of them. However, despite Louisville’s beauty, it has nearly twice as much violent crime compared to the rest of the country. Carroll’s murder is only the most recent shock to the community.
That emphasis on community informs the entire doc. Numerous interview subjects, many of whom live in Belgravia Court, provide context for why Louisville could be such a haven but still hide so many secrets. Personally, I found Jamie Carroll’s friends more interesting than Banis and Mundt’s neighbors. They felt more directly connected to the three parties, while the Belgravia Court residents felt more like comic relief. Admittedly, the narrative so far sounds like a fairly typical true-crime story. But impressively, Bailey and Barbato peel back enough layers by the end of Part 1 to keep the audience hooked. Without spoiling anything, new information makes the viewer rethink the dynamic between Banis and Mundt. Part 2 covers Banis and Mundt as they are put on separate trials for Carroll’s murder. It delves into thornier questions about toxic relationships and what constitutes “normal behavior.” Would you be able to pinpoint an abuser versus a victim at first glance? Maybe not.
To this day, it remains unclear which of the two is guiltier (though the doc certainly leans toward one answer). But what’s refreshing is how the doc’s final moments re-center the one person who matters most: Jamie. His death is the inciting incident and biggest tragedy of the entire case. He has no one left to speak for him, so Bailey and Barbato allow his queer community to speak for him. I merely wish that community were given more time than the one in Belgravia Court.
At its core, Murder in Glitterball City is a story of power, abuse, and deception. As salacious as it got, I appreciated the last reminders from Jamie Carroll’s friends Kevin and Erika: Jamie is still dead, and regardless of what happened during their relationship, Banis and Mundt sat on his body for six months. I have no idea what was going through their heads and I hope I never have to find out. I think Glitterball City is a mostly fascinating look at how the most violent monsters can hide in the most beautiful places.
George W. Campbell
George W. Campbell is a director/screenwriter/editor from Bowie, Maryland, whose films focus on themes of family and personal relationships. As a Nicaraguan-American filmmaker, he aims to highlight specific parts of his culture and personal experiences (songs, dances, foods, and language).