New documentary looks at the booming '70s Twin Cities food co-op scene -- and how it almost fell apart

May 16—At its core, the new documentary "The Co-op Wars" tells the story about a group of people who unite in defiance, push for the common good, grow and diversify and ultimately discover not everyone has the same idea of what's actually good.

It's a storyline that's played out in everything from religion to the arts to politics. In the case of "The Co-op Wars," the setting is a seemingly unlikely one, the Twin Cities food co-op culture of the '70s, which began with optimism and nearly collapsed during a bitter ideological battle.

The fascinating, well-made documentary makes its world premiere during the Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival. The hour-long film is available for online screening through May 23. Director Deacon Warner and producer Erik Esse will discuss "The Co-op Wars" during a free Zoom Q&A session at 7 p.m. May 18. (Register at mspfilm.org.) It's also scheduled to air on Twin Cities PBS in October.

Esse first discovered the story in 2006, when he was the marketing manager for North Country Co-op in the West Bank. He teamed up with Warner, who founded the youth program at FilmNorth, to shoot the documentary. An Eau Claire native, Esse lived in Minneapolis for 21 years and currently resides in Seattle.

The co-op concept — a community-run and community-focused business run by a collective — dates back centuries and has long been a staple in Minnesota, particularly areas where Scandinavians settled. Indeed, the first wave of food co-ops took hold in Minnesota in the 1920s.

"The Co-op Wars" opens in the late '60s in a commune in the nearly abandoned town of Georgeville, about 110 miles northwest of St. Paul. Founders Suzy Shroyer and Keith Ruona and a group that at one point topped 30 people grew their own organic food at the commune. Not only was it healthier than processed food, it was cheaper and aligned with the couple's counterculture values.

The commune began producing enough food that they were able to sell the surplus. A trip to San Francisco introduced the pair to that city's thriving food co-op scene. It was enough to inspire them to move to Minneapolis' West Bank to try what they called their "food experiment."

They began selling bulk foods — honey, whole wheat flour, brown rice, sesame seeds — from a friend's front porch. Dubbed the People's Pantry, it was staffed by volunteers and focused on selling healthy food at a low price.

"It was in some cases bulk food in garbage cans," Esse said. "You'd scoop out as much as you needed."

Eventually, the People's Pantry merged with another small hippie grocery and opened the North Country Co-op. It was more than well received and in six months, they were doing a staggering $2,000 a day.

That success led to a clothing line, a bakery and a warehouse. Organizers encouraged customers who didn't like the crowds to open their own co-ops and they began popping up across the Twin Cities. (Today, Minnesota has more food co-ops than anywhere else in the country.)

But the loose organization of the co-ops soon began to rankle some in the counterculture community. "You'd see crazy stuff, like a barefoot cashier sitting on the counter playing the flute," Esse said. "It was very unorganized. People wanted some structure."

There was also a growing faction that favored Marxist and Leninist ideologies over the anarchy and escapism of the hippies. That led to the founding of the Co-op Organization, or C.O. Soon, the counterculture scene split in two, with highly emotionally invested people on both sides. Ruona supported the C.O. and Shroyer didn't, which ended their relationship. (Midway through "The Co-op Wars," the filmmakers began using symbols to identify which side the interviewees were on at the time, with C.O. folks getting a hammer and sickle and the hippies getting a peace sign.)

"It was interesting looking at the two opposing sides and how diverse they were and how people switched back and forth," Esse said. "But the C.O. was very belligerent and forceful. It became a cult. It's really food for thought that people can end up doing what looks like the wrong thing based on good motivations."

People on both sides of the war published policy papers they'd pass out, sort of like an extremely slow version of Twitter. "It sounds silly, but those papers were deeply felt and people took them very seriously," Esse said.

In the end, Esse said the story has echoes to other groups who protested the Iraq War and who are currently fighting police brutality.

"Really, it's a fundamental event that people rally around. It's a broad coalition with people of all different stripes. But the conflict is that everybody knows what they're against, but they don't necessarily know what they're for as a group."

'The Co-op Wars'

— What: A new documentary about Twin Cities food co-ops in the '70s that makes its worldwide premiere during the Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival.

— Tickets: Tickets are $15 and the film is available for online streaming through May 23.

— Details: MSPIFF runs through May 23 and offers virtual screenings, along with select outdoor screenings, and with other special events. For the full schedule, see mspfilm.org.