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Hey, Watch It! #3 - Dr. Bronner's Magic Soapbox

This documentary introduces us to the pathological soap-making Jew who gave the world Dr. Bronner's, the best soap for a "whore's bath."

Anyone who has ever stepped foot into a health food store (or the home of someone who shops at health food stores) is familiar with Dr. Bronner's liquid soap. It's been the go-to cleanser of the self-proclaimed "counterculture" for many years now, and in fact it's a great product. The soaps are naturally derived, the scents are pleasant—and when it comes to the original peppermint formula, there's really no better soap on earth with which to give yourself a quick yet bracing "whore's bath" when you don't have time for a full shower. Not that I would know.

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However, the most distinctive thing about Dr. Bronner's is the packaging. We've all seen the cornea-numbing, text-heavy design that conveys not only what's inside, but also thousands of words of religiously tinged utopian ramblings—with the occasional mention of Mark Spitz (?!). This 2007 documentary introduces us to the man behind those ramblings, a 3rd-generation soap-making Jew who emigrated to the U.S. from Germany in 1929, starting a company that would eventually grow to do millions of dollars in business.

Using a variety of new and archival footage, Dr. Bronner's Magic Soapbox imperfectly yet entertainingly traces the outlandish story of an unlikely businessman and all-around kook. Bronner spent his early years in America trying to spread the word of his "Moral A-B-Cs." But when he found that his soaps were taking off faster than his teachings, he plastered the bottles with his appeals for worldwide unity through loving your fellow denizens here on "Spaceship Earth" (as well as using his product as a soak for dentures).

Unfortunately for Bronner's three kids, who lost their troubled mother very early on, his desire to elevate mankind and spread his "ALL-ONE!" philosophy far outweighed his desire to be a decent father. He remarried multiple times, leaving the children to spend long stretches in abusive orphanages and foster homes. The fact that none of his children grew up to pull a Menendez is kind of shocking—of course, two of them are dead, so who knows where things might have led if they'd had the time?

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Bronner's eldest child, Ellen, spent most of her life suffering from debilitating mental and physical problems until her death in the late '80s. Her presence in the film is brief and somewhat mysterious. The youngest, Jim, passed away from cancer in 1998 and seemed the most stable of the bunch. It's clear he and his own sons have helped turn Bronner's soap-making business into a well-organized, legitimate operation that has somehow managed to retain its social and ecological credibility in an increasingly scumbaggish corporate world.

The middle child, Ralph, is still a major force in the company. Much of the film focuses on his attempts to keep his father's legacy alive. Though thankfully, Ralph also extends his love of mankind to those in his immediate family. I think we are meant to find Ralph to be a super-friendly sweetheart—he doles out hugs to complete strangers and drops bottles of soap and $50 bills on people as "random acts of kindness"—but something about his lack of boundaries and transparent need to be loved carries a tinge of "sad foster kid" to me. He claims not to have bitterness towards his dad over the way he grew up, but it seems like some hurts are internalized so deeply you don't always know you're feeling them.

Structurally, this film definitely isn't perfect; there are large stretches of unaccounted-for time in Bronner's life and some important details left to guess at. Also, the music is terrible. But this is easily overlooked when the subject of the film is as engaging as this one. This is a guy who was both brilliant and a pathological liar. A healthy living advocate who believed the key to nutritional health was in a diet of cheese, corn, and bowlsful of guacamole. He looked like a super-tanned Dr. Strangelove, spoke of healing the world with the clipped accent of an impassioned dictator, and spent time not only on the FBI's "Nut List" but also in an Elgin, Illinois insane asylum -- which he escaped from and later claimed was a concentration camp. He also happened to have made some really good soap that hippies, camping enthusiasts, and cloth-diapering moms would turn into a cult sensation.

Watch Dr. Bronner's Magic Soapbox on Netflix

@mrsjennyryan 

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