‘Teenage Wasteland’ Netflix Review: When High School Students Took on Toxic Waste

Nothing suggests that signing up for an elective in high school could turn you into an investigative journalist. But that’s exactly what happened to a group of students in the early 1990s, who enrolled in an optional class with no idea that they would soon be appearing on national television with an investigation that challenged local politicians, the police, major corporations, and even the Mafia. That’s the remarkable story told in Teenage Wasteland, a documentary that revisits that era while making it clear that the past is never really past.

In 1991, Fred Isseks, a teacher at a high school in Middletown, New York, created an elective called Electronic English. Despite its vague name, the class functioned as a fully equipped multimedia production studio. Students made TV shows, music videos, short films, live performances—whatever they could imagine. They had cameras, editing equipment, and complete creative freedom. For many of them, it was simply the coolest class in school, largely because Fred himself was approachable, encouraging, and genuinely fun to be around. No one expected it to become anything more.

But the class also required an academic component, and that led Fred and his students to tackle a local environmental mystery. Like a teenage version of 60 Minutes, they set out to investigate a series of toxic waste dumps located just outside their town. What began with tips from local residents soon evolved into on-the-ground reporting, as they uncovered evidence that hazardous chemicals were contaminating the Hudson River and posing serious risks to public health. Before long, the students had become unlikely celebrities in their community, earning national media attention while discovering just how difficult it is to hold powerful interests accountable.

What makes the documentary especially compelling is that it’s told more than three decades after the events by Fred himself and several of the former students who took part in the investigation. Looking back at footage of their teenage selves, they marvel at the civic courage they displayed while confronting an issue that implicated not only local officials but, allegedly, organized crime and major corporations as well. Their interviews remain striking for their confidence, persistence, and refusal to let those in power off the hook.

Teenage Wasteland —known during its festival run as Middletown— blends investigative journalism with a coming-of-age story, environmental activism with nostalgia. As the film gradually shifts from the public story to the personal one, it explores both the emotions those teenagers experienced at the time and the reflections of the adults they’ve become. There is a touch of melancholy about the era that’s gone, but also genuine admiration for the determination and integrity these young reporters showed when confronted with forces far bigger than themselves.

The directors of Boys State and Girls State—two documentaries about teenage idealism and civic engagement—return to familiar territory here, with the added perspective that only time can provide. Almost inadvertently, Teenage Wasteland also becomes a commentary on the present. It highlights the scarcity of investigative journalism willing to challenge political and corporate power, as well as the apparent decline of the kind of civic engagement these teenagers embodied. Long before smartphones, social media, or endless hours spent online, they ventured into their own backyard to uncover dangers that others preferred to ignore. More than thirty years later, with the planet in even worse shape, far fewer people seem willing—or interested—to do the same.