The documentary’s title is geared to the sensationalistic approach to Jonestown we know and despise so well, starting in November 1978, a view shared, it seemed, by worldwide media, both printed and broadcast journalism.
Such a title could be read in a tone scornful and disrespectful toward the victims of that one-day massacre. At the same time, it describes accurately the three-part documentary broadcast in the UK and the USA in June, with the National Geographic imprimatur.
That revered title (b. 1888) comes with a promise of solemnity, professionalism, honesty. Does the 72 Films (UK) production live up to that reputation? It depends upon which audience answers that question.
Readers of the jonestown report presumably bring to such a documentary a reservoir of information, including many details of the events of November 18, 1978. The “average” American viewer – the documentary was released on Hulu and Disney channels – likely has few of those details in mind, if any.
Since I belong to the jtr group, I immediately noticed what was left out, details that I consider crucial to any understanding of the story. Two in particular stand out.
One was the sudden “decision” by Jones’ sycophant Larry Layton to join the fifteen Temple defectors leaving with Rep. Leo Ryan and heading to the Port Kaituma airstrip. For those Temple members who sat on that interminable tractor ride on the muddy roads between Jonestown and Port Kaituma, terror must have reigned.
The second omission was the murder/suicides perpetrated by Sharon Amos. When the third and final part of the series moves to Georgetown on the 18th, I kept waiting for the police to go to Lamaha Gardens and discover Sharon and her three children, all killed by her knife. Liane Harris, the biological daughter of Sharon and Concerned Relative Sherwin Harris, whose face kept appearing in the footage, was deleted from the record of that day, along with the two Black adopted children Amos murdered.
While the filmmakers cannot possibly include every nuance of the story, those two omissions struck me hard.
The National Geographic/Hulu/Disney audience, who brought little Jonestown knowledge to their viewing, were likely entertained by the various highlights of the congressman’s visit to the Jonestown compound, which apparently went fine until Don Sly’s knife attack on Ryan, an act most likely ordered by Jim Jones.
For both audiences, however – those with previous knowledge of the event, and those for whom the story is new – the highlight of this approach to Jonestown was the use of survivors’ voices, in the present moment 46 years after the massacre.
Stephan Jones in particular offered the raw complexity of his history as the only biological child of Jim and Marceline Jones, his sorrow that he had not been present in Jonestown on that day, and the implication he might have been able to stop the massacre from happening. Tim Carter, who was there, failed to stop it, and his guilt writes itself across his tortured countenance.
One of the filmmakers’ most important tools is juxtaposition of images: the picture of a happy group of PT members from the early days, followed immediately by the gorgeous tropical flora of the jungle, which concludes the program. Both audiences likely know that those smiling, multi-racial children and young adults likely lost their lives that day in Jonestown. No comments necessary, none offered.
Random acquaintances in the non-jtr crowd mentioned to me afterward that they saw “that documentary about Jonestown” after its premier, and that they learned a lot.
Me, I would not say I learned anything new. For me, the voices of the gray-haired survivors rang true, and gave life to some participants I had not previously focused on, like Grace Stoen and Thom Bogue.
The most sorrowful moment of the documentary for me was Grace’s face when she described going with the congressman to “visit family.” Because I know the horrific backstory of John Victor and her quest to get custody of her son – as well as its ultimate cruel ending – I found especially poignant her description of Ryan “agreeing to help us” and the ultimate failure of that mission, resulting in the murders of Ryan, John Victor, and 916 others.