Amanda McBaine and Jesse Moss have proven their uncanny knack for uncovering compelling stories of interest and documenting them in a way that is both informative and narratively engaging. The veteran documentarians are most recently known for their work across Boys State (2020) and Girls State (2024), and they continue to operate in an educational environment with Middletown (2025)–a story that feels both nostalgic and urgent: the kind of grassroots activism that starts not in city halls, courtrooms, or Congress, but rather in a humble high school classroom.
Set in Middletown, New York, the film follows Fred Isseks, a literature teacher who believes education doesn’t start and end in the textbook. In the early 1990s, Isseks launched a new elective, “Electronic English,” teaching students how to use analog recording, editing, and broadcasting equipment. By serendipitous happenstance, the start of the class aligned with Fred’s suspicious interest in what he believed was a local story worth investigating–the local landfill and its potential water supply contamination. What ensues is a remarkable investigative journey with his students to uncover the environmental consequences afflicting their town.
It’s a story that feels rooted in its early 90s setting through that identifiable grit of a VHS recording, yet overwhelmingly relevant to today’s partisan environmental condition. The film centers on a decades-long water contamination crisis, concealed by corporate negligence and governmental complacency, and the profound impact of a single educator’s mission to expose it alongside a socially energized group of student journalists.
What makes Middletown so powerful is its ability to navigate scale, a critical but often challenging component of environmental activism, rationalizing how individuals can impact a global phenomenon. McBaine and Moss thread together years of archival classroom footage, student on-site reporting, community interviews, and government hearings, building a layered portrait of both a small town discovering their crisis and a larger, broken system that allowed corporate negligence to thrive. The result is both intimate to the student experience and sweeping in its broader consequences–a documentary that tells the story of a few determined teenagers while also exposing the global failures of environmental governance.
At the center is the idea of “civic courage,” a term Isseks teaches his students, and a thread the film returns to in its most poignant moments. Civic courage is standing tall and speaking the truth, and it isn’t easy. It’s asking hard questions, standing up against corrupt systems of power, and refusing to back down when the system tries to silence you. In an era where the effects of climate change are reaching critical threat levels and institutions often seem paralyzed to acknowledge that the walls are closing in, Middletown reminds us that civic courage may be one of the most vital forms of resistance we have left.
There’s a sadness that runs through the film–a recognition that environmental injustice leaves real scars on real communities. Regulations fail. Governments look away. People get sick. But there’s hope here, too. The hope is rooted in education, collective action, and the radical belief that young people armed with camcorders and curiosity can start to change the world.
Middletown reconstructs a remarkable educational experiment in civic responsibility. McBaine, Moss, and the former Middletown students themselves challenge the audience to ask: What would happen if every classroom taught students not just how to pass a test, but how to ask the hard questions of authority, stand up for their communities, and refuse to accept the status quo? In the end, Fred Isseks and his students show us something profound: that activism doesn’t have to start big to matter. Sometimes it starts with a question, and from there, it can ripple out farther than anyone imagined.
Review Courtesy of Danny Jarabek
Feature Image from IMDb