Review: Mom and Dad’s Nipple Factory
Doc with a quirky title is a beautiful look at loving your neighbor.
Has there ever been a better title than Mom and Dad’s Nipple Factory? Admit it: you paid attention the second you saw it in your email or on your social media feed. It conjures all sorts of questions – is this a movie about some suburban deviants? A bit of body horror? A quirky Wes Anderson-esque comedy about people making baby bottles?
Having seen Justinsuperstar’s documentary, there’s another way to take this title, and it’s as a family’s inside joke. It’s a phrase you can imagine tossed around over Christmas dinner when a guest asks what’s in the back room. “Oh that? It’s just mom and dad’s nipple factory.” And you just know there’s a story to go along.
And boy, is there. This small documentary – which has been making the festival rounds and is now available to rent on digital platforms – bowled me over and moved me to tears. Gentle and funny, it’s a look at the good work of bringing dignity to others as well as a celebration of one of the most supportive marriages I’ve seen on the screen.
Justinsuperstar is the directorial name of Justin Johnson, the son of Brian and Randi Johnson. The two Eau Claire, Wisconsin, residents are exactly what you think of when you envision a conservative Midwestern couple. They’re involved in their church, they raised their kids with a strict moral upbringing. Brian’s self-effacing, a bit aloof and hesitant to talk about himself. They’re quiet, normal, salt-of-the-earth types.
But, for a living, they make and sell nipples.
It began in the late aughts, when Randi was diagnosed with breast cancer. After her mastectomy, she felt incomplete without this part of her body. Nipple replacements, as the film states, were crude and never completely realistic or effective. And so Brian, an engineer and tinkerer, researched whether he might be able to create a more believable prosthetic nipple. It involved experimentation and the collaboration of a local dentist. And, after finding a solution that pleased his wife and shocked doctors, the couple realized others had a need they could meet, describing their effort not as a business but as a ministry.
Despite coming in at a quick 80 minutes, the documentary covers a lot of ground. Even before any talk about mastectomies and nipple reconstruction, Justin examines his family history and explains why his parents were so uniquely equipped for this solution. Using home video footage – the family always had a camcorder ready – and lively discussions with his siblings, he explains the close-knit but stringent evangelical household dynamic and how Brian’s knack with technology helped the family thrive. There was the “media timer” he created to cut the TV off and limit his kids’ screen time, as well as the various businesses he created using off-the-shelf parts. Even before turning his attention to prosthetic nipples, he researched innovative approaches for Randi’s breast reconstruction, and when the surgeon’s pump failed, he jerry-rigged a solution using parts bought at an auto shop.
The center of the film is Brian and Randi’s marriage. They’re a match of opposites; he’s soft-spoken, shy and hesitant to discuss his successes. She’s more artistic, talkative and outgoing. His ingenuity creates these solutions; she builds relationships with customers and serves as the face of the business. It’s a collaboration, and the duo talk at great length about how their unique personalities make them stronger. Brian’s tinkering is often rooted not in mindless exploration but in innovations that can help his family, from the aforementioned media timer to special glasses to help Randi’s failing eyesight. The two are sweet and self-deprecating, and it’s believable that they largely just went about their work oblivious to any impact they were making.
One of the most joyful aspects of Mom and Dad’s Nipple Factory is the stealth way Justin turns this into a celebration of parents he often took for granted. While many of his siblings stayed close to home, he left Wisconsin behind for California and New York, and a career as a filmmaker. He’s open about the tension that developed between the family when he abandoned their faith. His camera is rolling through the years as he returns home for holidays, tours his father’s new “office,” and begins to understand just how many lives they’re touching. Near the end of the film, he provides a gift that allows Brian to see just how far his work has gone, and watching his reaction is one of the more powerful movie moments I’ve seen all year, as is a choice Justin makes late in the film as a result of spending more time with his family.
Because, despite its quirks – not the least of which is juxtaposing clips from everything from The 40-Year-Old-Virgin to Seinfeld to the music video for dc Talk’s “Jesus is Just Alright” – the film makes room for the very serious need Brian and Randi are meeting. Randi openly discusses her own struggles with identity and self-worth following her mastectomy, and she’s not alone. Several of the couple’s customers discuss how their lives have been changed because of this work and how what were once permanent reminders of their cancer are now gone.
What makes the film even more interesting is the tension between the very conservative and private Johnsons and the way their work might be seen as scandalous in some communities. One of their grown children admits discomfort thinking about what his father does because it might lead him to prurient thoughts. The couple largely keeps quiet about it at church in order not to cause discomfort. But the film addresses the oddity of this; this is not a sexual thing, it’s a matter of giving dignity and wholeness back to people in the community. And I appreciate that the film acknowledges the awkwardness of the topic among these individuals while also creating space for them to move past it, be impressed by the results of Brian’s work and celebrate its goodness. There’s awkwardness on display, but no vitriol. In the end, all are able to acknowledge and appreciate the quiet heroism coming from a small Wisconsin suburb.
And I’m glad for that. Because if there’s one thing this film displays well, it’s what it looks like to consistently and diligently love your neighbor. The goodness of this couple, their humor and their selflessness are admirable, and there’s beauty in seeing the love they extend to others. What started as a small act of support between a man and his wife ripples out to bring healing and joy to strangers across the country – and isn’t that how biblical love works? I love this couple, I love what they’re doing, and I love this little film. It’s one of my favorite movies of 2024.