Even on a second visit, the immersive setting as you step inside the auditorium to watch Chickenshed’s The Washing Line still has the power to take your breath away. Based on the horrific events of the 1978 Jonestown massacre, this powerful multi-media production feels as timely as ever, examining as it does what happens when vulnerable people in search of a better, fairer world find themselves at the mercy of ruthless manipulators driven by ego and a thirst for power. First devised as a Foundation Degree final year production in 2017, The Washing Line ran as Chickenshed’s spring show in March 2022, and directors and choreographers Michael Bossisse and Bethany Hamlin have revived and developed it further for 2025.

In November 1978, over 900 people, including U.S. Congressman Leo Ryan, died in Guyana at the instigation of Jim Jones, cult leader of the “Peoples Temple”. Long considered history’s deadliest mass suicide, the event is now more accurately described as mass murder, and the production begins at the end of the story, instilling an instant sense of dread in the audience. This dread continues to linger throughout the show, even though many scenes paint a hopeful, even joyful, picture of life in the community (just try and sit still for the gospel performance at the beginning of Act 2, I dare you). The show is very carefully balanced in this sense, and through a variety of formats – among them dramatised scenes of life in the settlement and the investigation of the tragedy, interviews with survivors, audio clips, photos and video footage – makes sure to portray not only the dark side but also what drew people to the movement in the first place, and the genuine optimism they brought to their new society. A beautifully choreographed sequence at the end of Act 1 evokes the collaborative family feeling that existed in the early days, before Act 2 explains how it all began to go so badly wrong, finally showing us the events of the devastating last hours.

As with all Chickenshed productions, this is very much an ensemble effort, and the group scenes in which the stage is filled with people are always a spectacle to witness. However, some individual performances deserve highlighting. Jonny Morton hits exactly the right balance of charismatic and sinister as Jim Jones; even though we know from the start who and what he is, it’s difficult to look away when he appears on the platform preaching to the adoring crowd. Meanwhile Ashley Driver’s DI Johnson, one of the scene’s first responders, is entirely convincing in his baffled horror at the scene, which causes him to repeatedly lash out at his equally overwhelmed fellow investigators. Anna Listo-Rees and Alex Brennan are sweet and compelling to watch as a young couple within the compound, Jessie and Vernon, in whose story it’s impossible not to become emotionally invested, and Sarah Driver brings a terrifying blend of victim and abuser to her portrayal of Jim Jones’ wife Marceline.

Concluding with screened footage of real events and testimony from Jonestown, all of which back up the veracity of the scenes we’ve just witnessed, the show ends on a chilling note, making applause feel inappropriate. But this absence of ovation is no reflection on the quality of the show, which as always showcases some of the incredible talent – both in terms of creative direction and performance – to be found within the Chickenshed community. Presented as it is in the round, and by such a huge cast, there are inevitably some small difficulties from time to time with the audibility of dialogue, but this is a single criticism of an otherwise extremely well thought out production.

The Washing Line continues at Chickenshed until 5th April.