This new three-part docuseries, currently streaming on Hulu, takes a different approach to the Jonestown story: it focuses exclusively on the day of the mass deaths, with minimal time spent describing what led to them. There is also coverage of the immediate aftermath of the tragedy. This novel approach, with its limited scope, unfortunately omits important context. There’s little background provided, so if you know nothing about Jim Jones prior to watching this documentary, you need to do some more research to answer your questions.
A major strength of this series is the extensive use of footage of Jonestown, some of which was shot by Peoples Temple and some of which was shot by the news crews that accompanied Congressman Leo Ryan on his fateful trip to Guyana. Portions of the footage have been used in earlier documentaries, but not to this degree. You gain an appreciation for the accomplishment of building a community in the jungle. You get a good view of what it was like for Ryan and those who accompanied him. You also see the horrific aftermath of the catastrophe that occurred in this microcosm.
Other positives are interviews with people not frequently heard from in documentaries, including Yulanda Williams, Thom Bogue, John Cobb, and David Netterville. Those who are familiar with the Jonestown story may recognize the first three names but wonder about the fourth. Netterville was with U.S. Special Forces and was sent to Jonestown after the Port Kaituma airstrip shooting, amidst rumors that mass suicide might be occurring in Jonestown. Netterville’s inclusion in the docuseries is an intriguing one, providing a novel perspective. His group’s mission was to find Jim Jones and any survivors. Trained for military missions, the group was thrust into a rescue and recovery operation. Netterville’s story also exemplifies the ripple effect of tragic events; the trauma extended well beyond the lives lost, those who narrowly escaped, and the loved ones of Temple members.
I also appreciate the series’ exposure of the poor treatment survivors received in the aftermath. Of note is the way survivors like Stephan Jones and Leslie Wagner-Wilson were questioned by the press. A salient example is an interview with Wagner-Wilson. In emotional shock over the tragedy and not knowing the status of her mother, Wagner-Wilson was asked by a reporter if she would have taken the poison and given it to her son, had she not escaped with him and a small group earlier that morning. Wagner-Wilson stated that she wouldn’t have, then the reporter insisted on the contrary. To describe this as tone deaf is a gross understatement. The docuseries also reveals the suspicion the public had towards survivors and the stigma that followed them for years.
Although there are strengths to the series, there are weaknesses as well. I cannot help but wonder if the documentary’s conclusion was lost on part of the audience because it is written on the screen rather than spoken: “The Jonestown Massacre was known as the largest mass suicide in American history. It is now recognized as mass murder.” This statement reframes the Jonestown narrative, but for those who are listening or only half-watching, it might be missed. Interviews with David Netterville, Stephan Jones, and Tim Carter all mention murder. But the seeming renouncement of suicide as a part of the story is most clear in this written statement. It’s a bold conclusion, but overly simplistic.
I agree that murder – mass murder – occurred. But there was also suicide. Episode 2 of the series, entitled “How Very Much I’ve Loved You,” refers to Jones’ opening statement on FBI Tape Q042 (the so-called “death tape”). Portions of the tape are used, though somewhat selectively. The documentary includes the objection to mass suicide made by an unnamed “Temple member.” Missing is her name – Christine Miller – and the fact that she was shouted down by others, which could be interpreted as a contingent of Jonestown residents – number indeterminable – who seem willing to die with Jones. As Jones says near the beginning of the tape, “If we can’t live in peace, then let’s die in peace,” but the subsequent applause from those gathered in the pavilion – clearly audible on Q042 – is not included in the docuseries. Maybe some residents were applauding Jones out of expectation, but it seems likely that some were agreeing with him. Also missing are the dozen or so testimonials of individuals who spoke up to thank “Father,” even as children can be heard crying – dying – in the background. How many people were truly willing, we will never know. It’s one of the big, unanswerable questions about Jonestown.
Also curiously omitted from the documentary – despite the mention of the Temple’s headquarters in Georgetown, Guyana – are the deaths of Sharon Amos and her three children. Outside of the direct sway of Jones and the armed guards in the pavilion, Sharon received a radio message that everyone in Jonestown was dying, and then chose death for herself and her children. While it’s reasonable to assume that Sharon’s youngest children weren’t given a choice about dying that day, her oldest daughter, Liane, may have willingly participated in the murder-suicide of the Amos family. Arguably, Sharon was all-in with Jones’ revolutionary suicide mission. Moreover, she wasn’t the only Temple member who was.
Mass murder requires one or more murderers, yet the documentary doesn’t elaborate on them. Jones unquestionably made the final decision on 11/18/78. But, as has been pointed out elsewhere, Jones had help. Presumably, communities don’t routinely keep enough cyanide on hand to wipe out their entire population, but Jonestown did. The documentary never approaches the issue of when and how the cyanide plan – to the degree that it was documented – came about. Others were involved in devising the plan, including testing cyanide on pigs. Someone ordered it, and someone stored it where the average Jonestown resident wouldn’t know of its presence. Someone other than Jones mixed it with fruit punch in vats. People served it up, and armed guards were prepared to enforce consumption or injection. Jones had enablers – co-conspirators – who saw need to plan for an unfortunate eventuality that would require their own deaths, along with those of their comrades. We don’t need to name them – no one is even certain as to who they all were – but that Jones’ loyalists helped execute the revolutionary suicide plan should be acknowledged. This is lost in the microscopic lens of the series.
Even the information about the lead-up to Ryan’s visit is not well detailed. Although there’s mention of concerns voiced by family members of Jonestown residents back in the States, this is a cursory view. Not included is that both Congressman Ryan and his aide Jackie Speier, who is featured in the docuseries, had met with Debbie Blakey, a high-level Temple defector who had warned of possible mass suicide if John Victor Stoen was taken from the community. But John Victor is only mentioned by reference – never by name – and the legal battle over his custody is unaddressed. Although Stephan Jones describes how the mood in Jonestown changed when his father arrived, the documentary does not go into the details of the troubles that compelled Jim Jones to move. Jones’ own departure from the U.S. led to a mass exodus of Temple members to Jonestown, a move that put additional pressure on the community for housing, food, supplies, and infrastructure. There were a lot of factors that compounded to make a volatile situation – not just for Jones, but for everyone around him. But most of this context is missing.
Some of the story seems to get lost. Have you ever heard of Vernon Gosney? Well, his note – cosigned by Monica Bagby – is mentioned in the documentary, but he is not included as someone shot at the airstrip by Larry Layton (who is also never mentioned). By stripping out details, the intricacies of the situation are lost, along with some accuracy. Perhaps the director didn’t view these details as critical; maybe they had to make some hard decisions about what to include or exclude. Fewer details might seem less confusing. With few exceptions, the only people identified by name in the series are those who are interviewed and the five people who were killed at the Port Kaituma airstrip.
It’s difficult to adequately cover this story, because it involves well over one thousand people, once you account for the lives lost, the survivors, the loved ones of Temple members, and others caught in the tragedy. There are complexities and nuances that cannot be captured in a docuseries that focuses on a limited timeframe of this religious movement. If viewers have little or no prior knowledge of Jonestown, they might attribute the outcome solely to Jim Jones. Stephan Jones says in the documentary that his father was “as nutty as anyone could get,” and likely few people would argue with his assessment. But the “nutty” leader doesn’t fully account for the deaths of hundreds of people.
Ultimately, the series leaves us with a myopic view of Jonestown. It does a fair job of explaining what happened at Jonestown, but a poorer job of explaining why and how it happened. Maybe dividing the story up over four, rather than three, episodes would have allowed for a better and more satisfying exploration of the intricacies of the story.
This review is not an “avoid this documentary” statement, but rather a “buyer beware” statement. For those who are interested in Jonestown, the series is worth a view; just know going in that you’re not viewing the full picture. Finally, to those who were interviewed: I appreciate hearing your experiences and insight, and I am inspired by your resilience.
(Katherine Hill is an Associate Professor of Psychology at Metropolitan State University of Denver. She can be reached at hilltass@gmail.com.)