Papertown (2026) Documentary Review: Jeremy Seifert Captures the Human Cost of Industrial Obsolescence

Share it

Technology can be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it helps make things faster and, in many cases, more efficient. It also gives people a form of autonomy they previously lacked. Though in this regard, you could argue that technologies like smartphones, television, and especially social media have actually made us more dependent, stripping away some of the freedom we once had. Yet on the other side of the coin, you have communities whose very existence becomes tied to a specific technology or industry — and when that disappears overnight, so does an essential part of their identity.

That is, in many ways, the premise of Jeremy Seifert’s new documentary “Papertown”, a look at the breaking point faced by the community of Canton, North Carolina, after the sudden closure of a 115-year-old paper mill. A mill that, as you would expect from something that has existed for over a century, became deeply embedded in the soul of the town itself. Its closure isn’t simply about people losing jobs; it’s literally the end of an era. This is a place that lived and breathed paper.

There’s a scene involving a teacher passionately speaking about the importance of paper that I think perfectly summarizes the documentary’s central idea. The reverence with which she talks about it is probably unlike anything taught in most schools. In just a few minutes, the film effectively shows how deeply this town is rooted in the mill. It becomes the beating heart of Canton. And once that heart stops, uncertainty immediately begins to spread throughout the community. History has shown time and time again that places like this can easily become ghost towns. Flint, Michigan, instantly came to mind, a once-thriving city, now synonymous with decline. Fortunately for Canton, things seem to be happening more gradually, giving its residents at least some time to brace for impact.

Looking through Seifert’s filmography, you can tell he’s a filmmaker interested in communities fighting for survival, often against larger systems and corporations. What I appreciated here is that instead of taking a more aggressive, Michael Moore-ish approach and directly attacking the company behind the mill, Seifert focuses entirely on the people affected by it. The mill itself remains visually present throughout the documentary, often appearing as this massive smoking creature looming over the town — once a symbol of opportunity, now transformed into an emblem of uncertainty and despair. But the real focus is always on the people. If the mill is the heart, the people are the heartbeat.

Through a collection of compelling individuals, we gradually come to understand what makes Canton special. The documentary does a really good job of highlighting personal connections to the town and the mill. The teacher’s segment was especially effective because it immediately reminded us how present paper still is in our daily lives. Call me ignorant, but I genuinely had no idea movie theater screens apparently contain paper materials.

Papertown (2026) Documentary — A still from Papertown (2026)

The standout figure, however, is definitely Boydston and his larger-than-life personality. In many ways, he embodies what people stereotypically expect from a hillbilly, and Seifert clearly recognizes how compelling he is because he essentially becomes the documentary’s central character. What I loved most was how he challenged those stereotypes. Rather than fitting the image of the “low IQ redneck” many people might expect, he comes across as charismatic, funny, insightful, and surprisingly witty.

That said, the documentary isn’t without flaws. The first half is genuinely strong, and the ending involving the executive — while predictable and built around truths we’ve heard many times before — still lands because it reflects a painful reality so many communities have faced. Circling back to my opening thoughts, technology truly is both a blessing and a curse. Unfortunately for Canton, this massive industrial machine that once sustained the town has now become obsolete.

Still, I wish the documentary had gone deeper into the company and factory side of things. I understand it probably wasn’t easy to gain access or secure interviews from that perspective, but I would have loved to hear more about why modernization wasn’t feasible. The film briefly touches on newer technologies, making the Canton operation outdated, but only in passing. I kept wanting the documentary to dig further into the economic and technological realities behind the closure instead of just mentioning them.

Likewise, aside from Boydston and, to a lesser extent, the teacher, some of the other interviewees eventually begin blending together. While they help paint a broader picture of the town, the documentary occasionally becomes repetitive in both its stories and emotional beats, causing it to lose momentum during stretches of the second half.

All in all, though, a documentary’s ultimate purpose is to move us and/or inform us about a particular subject, and Seifert succeeds at both. He captures this community with empathy and humanity, showing how people respond to loss, uncertainty, and the challenge of redefining themselves after the collapse of the world they once knew. After all, if there’s any hope for a place like Canton to survive and avoid fading into oblivion, it lies with the people themselves. The documentary may lose some steam along the way and isn’t consistently engaging throughout, but overall it’s still a worthwhile and emotionally resonant watch, especially for anyone interested in documentaries centered around real-world struggles that feel painfully relevant today.