First word tells. Never trust anything starting with 'Peoples...'
Unfortunately, Jim Jones' cult (Peoples Temple) was targeting particular groups who were over-keen to believe in Utopia, many of them humble Afro-Americans, who seem to outnumber the other races in a way that makes this rainbow coalition look a bit suspect from the start. The black dimension is, however, the central concern of director Stanley Nelson, and that is how this 85-minute documentary differs from many others on the same horribly fascinating subject. It also means that you are better to have watched some of these first, as the present work naturally gives you a skewed version of the story.
Only the first and last sections are directly sequential - Jones' boyhood, and then the climactic 24 hours leading up to the murder/suicide of 900 trusting believers. The main body of the film is taken up with first-hand testimonies by those connected with the Temple, either as bereaved relatives or disillusioned whistleblowers. Not one in ten of these could be described as people of critical insight. In fact, 'uncritical' is probably the key word. Long before they swallowed their lethal poison, they were swallowing a cheap mix of cult-theory, hot-gospeller gabble and theatrical stunts, including a transparently fake miracle with a wheelchair-bound 'patient' who is inspired to get up and walk.
Some of their comments are so stupid that they can only be good news for any budding cult-leader, perhaps feeling tempted after watching an exceptionally glamorous whistleblower confessing that she surrendered her virtue to Jones when he said "I'm doing this for you, Debbie." One survivor, clearly unteachable, defends Jones on the grounds that "At least we tried to make a change". (Well, that really does leave the rest of us feeling narrow-minded.) Other reactions include "It all looked so plausible", "It looked like freedom" and "We had fun".
At the risk of talking cliché, it is impossible not to note the Hitler parallels, especially the hypnotic effect on crowds and the appeals to turn-in your own family for signs of disloyalty. And his own suicide, at least, was on the cards. For he had shown that he was a man liable to cut-and-run. When the first whistleblower went to the press, Jones was on a plane to Guyana before the morning papers had even hit the street. And once that brave and unusually dutiful congressman Leo Ryan came to investigate on behalf of his worried constituents, it was clear that everything was about to unravel, and that Jones and his ghastly cult might as well self-destruct once and for all.
Unfortunately, Jim Jones' cult (Peoples Temple) was targeting particular groups who were over-keen to believe in Utopia, many of them humble Afro-Americans, who seem to outnumber the other races in a way that makes this rainbow coalition look a bit suspect from the start. The black dimension is, however, the central concern of director Stanley Nelson, and that is how this 85-minute documentary differs from many others on the same horribly fascinating subject. It also means that you are better to have watched some of these first, as the present work naturally gives you a skewed version of the story.
Only the first and last sections are directly sequential - Jones' boyhood, and then the climactic 24 hours leading up to the murder/suicide of 900 trusting believers. The main body of the film is taken up with first-hand testimonies by those connected with the Temple, either as bereaved relatives or disillusioned whistleblowers. Not one in ten of these could be described as people of critical insight. In fact, 'uncritical' is probably the key word. Long before they swallowed their lethal poison, they were swallowing a cheap mix of cult-theory, hot-gospeller gabble and theatrical stunts, including a transparently fake miracle with a wheelchair-bound 'patient' who is inspired to get up and walk.
Some of their comments are so stupid that they can only be good news for any budding cult-leader, perhaps feeling tempted after watching an exceptionally glamorous whistleblower confessing that she surrendered her virtue to Jones when he said "I'm doing this for you, Debbie." One survivor, clearly unteachable, defends Jones on the grounds that "At least we tried to make a change". (Well, that really does leave the rest of us feeling narrow-minded.) Other reactions include "It all looked so plausible", "It looked like freedom" and "We had fun".
At the risk of talking cliché, it is impossible not to note the Hitler parallels, especially the hypnotic effect on crowds and the appeals to turn-in your own family for signs of disloyalty. And his own suicide, at least, was on the cards. For he had shown that he was a man liable to cut-and-run. When the first whistleblower went to the press, Jones was on a plane to Guyana before the morning papers had even hit the street. And once that brave and unusually dutiful congressman Leo Ryan came to investigate on behalf of his worried constituents, it was clear that everything was about to unravel, and that Jones and his ghastly cult might as well self-destruct once and for all.