Ep. 005: Tracing the hidden afterlives of Philadelphia's trash

Cover art for Episode 005 on Philadelphia’s decades-old garbage crisis.

A nonfiction film explores Philly's waste, from its sewers and surveillance cameras to the beach in Haiti where its ash ended up. 

Philadelphia has been trying to solve its trash problem for decades. The city's answers have included hundreds of surveillance cameras mounted on telephone poles; two-hundred-year-old sewers still catching what washes off the street; and, once, a ship sent out to sea with fourteen thousand tons of incinerator ash to find a country that would take it.

When Melissa Langer moved here in 2017, she was struck by the litter and illegal dumping piled at the roadside, and a quick search turned up the cameras. "I immediately thought how bizarre, mysterious, darkly comedic this phenomenon was," she says. In Excess is her new nonfiction film that follows Philadelphia's waste above ground and below, through streets, sewers, waterways and out to sea, and that is itself built, to a large degree, out of discarded material. 

For this episode I spoke with Melissa, archival producer Caitlin Riggsbee, and the sound team of Jonathan Snipes and Christopher Fleeger.

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Going to the periphery

Melissa found her framework in discard studies — the field that examines how societies decide what counts as garbage and where it goes. "In order to have a clean 'center,'" she says, "you have to send waste to an imaginary 'away' on a periphery. And so I wanted to go to those peripheries." She followed the trash outward, to the people paid to handle it: at pumping stations, on sorting lines, and in surveillance rooms filled with camera feeds. Melissa shot most of it alone, which got her into places a crew couldn't.

For a while the film's center of gravity was Terrill Haigler, better known in Philadelphia as Ya Fav Trashman: a former sanitation worker who built an online following documenting the city's trash, then ran for City Council. A campaign finance story produced a bad headline and he eventually dropped out. "I hope you add that to the documentary," he tells her. "How hard it is to actually make change in Philly. Especially if you're not rich."

Two people, hundreds of cameras

The surveillance program Melissa found in that first search leads to a small office with two computers and a pair of employees watching over 370 cameras posted across the city. They're good at it, and so are the dumpers, who swap trucks, cover plates, and move one corner over when a camera appears. Even when someone is caught, the fine is $5,000.

Much of what gets dumped isn't household trash. It's construction and demolition debris, nearly a fifth of Philadelphia's waste stream. It's abandoned cars and the clean-outs of homes whose occupants moved or were evicted. And where it lands isn't random: as Caitlin Riggsbee points out, the debris in Rittenhouse Square is nothing next to Grays Ferry or Kensington — a question, she says, of "where we decide what's okay, who's okay to dump on."

What a sewer sounds like

Much of the film was shot at Revolution Recovery, a construction and demolition recycling plant in Northeast Philadelphia that has housed the nonprofit studio RAIR (Recycled Artist in Residency) since 2010. Melissa did a residency there; Fleeger and Snipes came to record, bringing sixteen microphones to arrange across the machinery. This is all highly unusual. Most low-budget documentaries put all their effort into shooting new footage, Snipes says, "and then the sound team is essentially working from stock footage,” or purchased libraries.

At a sewage pumping station, Fleeger and Snipes found a grate that strains debris out of the sewage. The noise was piercingly loud and horrible to stand near, but surprisingly musical. It became the film's score. Months later, the film went to captioner Storm Miguel Flores, who had never met the sound team. Describing that scene for a deaf viewer, he wrote: Gate tone continues, similar to a sustained trumpet note.

A ship no port would take

The film's historical footage replays Philadelphia's waste crisis of the mid-1980s, when landfills closed to the city's trash and it burned more instead, leaving mountains of toxic incinerator ash. One solution was to put the ash on a boat. The Khian Sea left in 1986 with fourteen thousand tons and spent two years being turned away from port after port. In January 1988, the crew unloaded four thousand tons onto a beach in Haiti and called it fertilizer; ordered to remove it, the ship left in the night with the rest aboard, changed names twice, and turned up empty that November. The remaining tonnage went into the Atlantic and Indian Oceans. 

Almost none of this history existed on film. Caitlin started at Temple University's Urban Archives, tried local Facebook groups, and eventually got Greenpeace to turn up forgotten boxes of VHS tapes they'd never digitized. Much of it was unusable by any conventional standard — desaturated, warbled, three pixels wide — but Melissa and editor Julian Turner used it anyway. "It's trash archival," Caitlin says. "But it does actually move the story along."

There is no away

Today, Philadelphia recycles less of its trash than any other major American city, and the region is running out of room, again: of the 33.5 million tons the Northeast disposed of in 2024, roughly 23 percent went to landfills expected to close within five years, and another 12 million tons left the region entirely. Waste companies are now building rail networks to move garbage to Ohio, Virginia and Alabama.

When asked in Q&As how her waste habits have changed, Melissa tries to shift the idea away from personal narratives and towards ideas like extended producer responsibility (EPR). She knows many viewers arrive expecting an environmental film with "a nice bow on the end." But her aim is the opposite: that they leave "surprised, unsettled, maybe even a little bit confused in a productive way," having assembled the meaning themselves rather than received it.


Additional resources

Start by watching In Excess, then follow the threads: the emerging academic field that gave Melissa her framework, the literature around sanitation work, the shrinking landfill capacity pushing Northeast waste further from home, and the local organizing happening in Philadelphia right now. If the ghost of the Khian Sea stuck with you, the last section has ways to act on what it revealed.

READ

  • Max Liboiron and Josh Lepawsky, Discard Studies: Wasting, Systems, and Power (MIT Press, 2022) — the field Melissa names as her point of departure. Its argument is that social, political and economic systems maintain power by discarding certain people, places and things, and it takes direct aim at the myth that most waste is household trash.

  • Robin Nagle, Picking Up (FSG, 2013), and Simon Paré-Poupart, Trash! A Garbageman's Story (Melville House, 2026) — two sociologists who took the job, in New York and Montreal respectively. Great reading companions to what In Excess does with labor, and both are funnier than you'd expect.

  • Where it’s all going today: Megan Quinn's 2026 Waste Dive report on the Northeast’s shrinking disposal capacity has the numbers: a region that threw away 33.5 million tons in 2024 and is now laying rail to ship its garbage to Ohio and Alabama. Jen Kinney's "Seven Days At The Bin Store" (Defector, 2025) offers a quirky look at a West Philly shop selling Amazon returns, at prices that fall a dollar a day until what's left is worth nothing.

WATCH

  • In Excess, directed by Melissa Langer — available on physical drive from Video StoreAge, which also carries an extended, hour-long cut of this “Talking Trash” conversation.

  • Greenpeace, "Toxic Ash in Haiti" archive — the organization's own documentation of the Khian Sea ash pile, from the same body of material Caitlin spent months trying to get digitized. 

  • Nikolaus Geyrhalter, Matter Out of Place (2022) — a wordless observational documentary that visits landfills, incinerators, and dumping grounds across the world. A close cinematic sibling to In Excess, and a useful contrast: where Geyrhalter goes global and silent, Melissa goes local and listens.

ACT

  • Report illegal dumping wherever you live — in most US cities through a 311 line or public works department.

  • Trash Academy — a Philadelphia youth-led project out of Mural Arts that maps dumpsites, campaigns on construction and demolition waste, and runs the Clean Philadelphia Now petition. 

  • RAIR (Recycled Artist in Residency), the nonprofit studio inside Revolution Recovery, an active construction and demolition recycling plant in Northeast Philadelphia, challenging the perception of waste culture. It's been running residencies since 2010, and it's where much of Melissa’s film was shot.

  • Basel Action Network, which works to end the toxic waste trade, named for the 1989 treaty that was catalyzed in part by public outrage over the Khian Sea. Today it mostly tracks e-waste, discarded ships, and plastic exports.

Episode 005 designs for Talking Trash | Art Director: Frances Miller

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Ep. 004: Exposing the French Caribbean's toxic banana farming scandal