Mom and Dad’s Nipple Factory may have the most unusual title of any film I’ve ever reviewed for Berkeleyside, and its subject matter certainly belongs in the ‘truth is stranger than fiction’ category. Despite its provocative title, however, the film is actually about some of the most strait-laced people imaginable.
Produced by Berkeley resident Jason Cohen, Nipple Factory, which is screening at Oakland’s New Parkway Theater at 7 p.m. Tuesday, is the latest feature from director Justin Superstar, whose real name (Justin Johnson) replaces his Warholian pseudonym during the film’s final credit crawl. The name change represents the journey taken by Justin — one of Brian and Randi Johnson’s five adult children — throughout his documentary’s decades-long narrative arc.
The film’s first act, which was largely shot in chilly Eau Claire, Wisconsin, provides the Johnson family’s back story. Steeped in conservative Lutheranism, family patriarch and inveterate tinkerer Brian spent years making integrated circuits while mom Randi home-schooled the kids. After being laid off by a local IT company in the mid-90s, Brian began offering private computer lessons and teaching part-time at a Lutheran middle school.
So far, so middle American. But when Randi was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2007, things took an unexpected turn. After her mastectomy, Randi was devastated by the change in her physical appearance — and the ever-creative and deeply supportive Brian developed a technique to create distinctive and realistic latex nipples. In the years since, the family has quietly operated the titular manufactory in one of the kid’s old bedrooms and served hundreds of ‘customer-friends,’ several of whom offer moving testimonials to Johnson pere’s skill at the film’s end.
As for director Justin, he was the family’s black sheep. Unswayed by religion, he’d lived in New York City and Los Angeles for years while maintaining a polite distance from his family. That began to change after Randi’s diagnosis, and this warm, uplifting film documents his unanticipated return to the bosom of the family.
Wicked Little Letters, opening at Rialto Cinemas Elmwood Friday, belongs to the cheeky period comedy subgenre, which is uniquely British. For those who’ve enjoyed films like 2022’s See How They Run, Wicked Little Letters will provide similar entertainment value.
Directed by Thea Sharrock, the film is, in truth, not as good as the delightful See How They Run. That’s largely down to Jonny Sweet’s anachronistic and occasionally undercooked screenplay, but there’s a terrific cast on hand to render Sweet’s salty dialogue a little more palatable.
Set in the English seaside town of Littlehampton (but actually filmed in nearby Arundel), the film is a fictionalized adaptation of an event that took place during the 1920s, when poison pen letters started dropping through the letterboxes of the sleepy Sussex resort town’s residents. As in the film, the police and the justice system got involved, and there’s even a book on the subject from a university press.
Sharrock and Sweet focus their attention on foul-mouthed Rose (the excellent Jessie Buckley, previously impressive in 2017’s Beast and 2022’s Men) and austere and dowdy Emily (reliable Olivia Colman), who lives next door to Rose and receives much of the crude correspondence. Another long-time favorite, Timothy Spall, is on hand as Emily’s crusty father, while newcomer Anjana Vasan is memorable as Woman Police Constable Moss, who tackles the case when her male counterparts don’t seem up to the task.
Wicked Little Letters is a film that is best appreciated without thinking too hard about plot developments; otherwise, you’ll quickly figure out who the villain is. You’ll have a fine enough time simply watching the cast go through their paces.
