Hollywood mostly gave up on the "R-rated teen comedy" years ago. They thought it was dead. While the big studios were busy chasing superhero sequels and hundred-million-dollar CGI spectacles, a guy named Jeremy Garelick—the writer behind The Break-Up—saw a massive, gaping hole in the market. He decided to buy a literal high school. Honestly, that’s the most legendary part of the whole American High production company story. They didn't just build a set; they bought A.V. Zogg Middle School in Liverpool, New York, and turned it into a full-time movie studio.
It’s kind of wild if you think about it.
Most production houses spend a fortune on location scouting and permits for every single project. American High just walks into the hallway. Because they own the school, they can film three or four movies a year for what it costs a major studio to do one. This isn't just a business hack; it’s a creative powerhouse that has basically single-handedly revived the genre that John Hughes and Judd Apatow once ruled. If you've watched a raunchy, heartfelt, or slightly chaotic teen movie on Hulu lately, there is a very high chance it came out of that brick building in Syracuse.
The "Syracuse Model" and Why It Works
You can't talk about American High without talking about the economics of the "Syracuse Model." It’s basically the antithesis of the Hollywood "go big or go home" mentality. By setting up shop in Central New York, they take advantage of the state's generous tax credits, which are significantly more lucrative outside of New York City. But the real magic is the centralization.
Imagine a "Content House" but for actual cinema.
The cafeteria is a cafeteria. The locker rooms are locker rooms. The gym is a gym. They have a permanent crew, many of whom are locals or recent graduates from nearby Syracuse University’s Newhouse School. This creates a shorthand. They don’t waste time on logistics. They spend that time on the jokes. When you look at movies like Big Time Adolescence or Plan B, you notice a specific aesthetic. It feels real. It doesn't look like a glossy, over-lit soundstage in Burbank. It looks like the school you actually went to, smells like floor wax and anxiety included.
The partnership with Hulu was the turning point. Before that, they were an ambitious indie outfit. Once Hulu realized that Gen Z was starving for movies that actually reflected their lives—not the "CW" version of high school where everyone is 25 and looks like a supermodel—the floodgates opened.
Real People, Real Messy Lives
A lot of people think teen movies are easy to write. They aren't. They’re actually the hardest to get right because the "vibe" shifts every six months. If you try too hard to be "hip," you look like a "how do you do, fellow kids" meme. American High avoids this by focusing on the timeless stuff: feeling like a loser, wanting to get laid, and being terrified of the future.
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Take Big Time Adolescence as a prime example. Pete Davidson basically plays a version of himself—a stoner dropout who is the "cool older friend" to a suburban kid. It’s funny, sure. But it’s also incredibly sad and nuanced. It captures that specific moment where you realize your idol is actually a deadbeat. That's the American High production company secret sauce. They lead with the comedy, but they anchor it in a reality that feels a bit more "indie" than "blockbuster."
- Plan B: A frantic road trip movie about getting the morning-after pill. It’s hilarious but addresses the genuine nightmare of reproductive healthcare access in a way that feels organic, not preachy.
- Crush: A queer coming-of-age story that doesn't make the "coming out" the entire plot. It’s just a rom-com. That’s progress.
- The Binge: Think The Purge, but for drugs and alcohol. It’s absurd, but it works because it stays true to the internal logic of its world.
Why the Industry is Paying Attention
Jeremy Garelick and his partner Will Phelps have created a factory line that doesn't feel like a factory. That is a very difficult needle to thread. In an era where streaming services are cutting costs and "prestige" TV is getting more expensive, the American High model is a blueprint for survival. They prove you can make "mid-budget" movies that people actually want to watch.
The industry used to rely on these $5M to $15M movies. They were the training grounds for directors and actors. Somewhere along the way, the middle class of film disappeared. You either had $200k "art" films or $200M "franchise" films. American High stepped into that middle ground and claimed it.
They also act as an incubator. They give young directors a shot. They aren't just hiring the same five guys who have been directing comedies since the 90s. They’re looking for new voices who understand the current cultural landscape. This is how you get films that feel authentic to the way people actually talk in 2026, rather than how a 50-year-old screenwriter thinks they talk.
The Logistics of Buying a School
Let's get into the weeds of the school itself. It’s 100,000 square feet. It was a middle school that closed down due to declining enrollment. When Garelick bought it, people in the town of Liverpool were skeptical. Is this some Hollywood weirdness? But it’s been a massive boon for the local economy. They’ve turned classrooms into editing suites. The basement is a prop warehouse. The parking lot is constantly filled with grip trucks.
It’s essentially a closed-loop system.
They can shoot a hallway scene in the morning, a classroom scene in the afternoon, and an exterior football field scene at night without moving a single truck. This saves hundreds of thousands of dollars per production. When you're making movies on an indie budget, that money goes directly back onto the screen. It allows for better music licensing, better color grading, and more days for the actors to find the chemistry.
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Overcoming the "Teen Movie" Stigma
For a long time, "teen movie" was a dirty word in the awards circuit. It was seen as disposable. But American High is fighting that by focusing on the "coming-of-age" aspect. There is a reason Lady Bird or Eighth Grade resonated so deeply; those years are the most transformative of a human life.
Everything feels like the end of the world when you're seventeen.
The American High production company captures that high-stakes emotion. Whether it’s the social suicide of a bad Instagram post or the genuine heartbreak of a first breakup, they treat the characters' problems with respect. They don't look down on their audience. Honestly, that’s probably why their movies perform so well on streaming. You feel like the filmmakers are in on the joke with you, not laughing at you.
Critics sometimes complain that some of their output is "formulaic." Sure, you can find the beats. There’s usually a party, a misunderstanding, and a grand gesture. But who cares? Formulas exist because they work. The innovation isn't in reinventing the wheel; it's in making the wheel feel modern, diverse, and actually funny.
What’s Next for the Liverpool Studio?
They aren't stopping at teen comedies. While that is their bread and butter, the infrastructure they’ve built is capable of so much more. There’s talk of expanding into different genres while keeping the same cost-effective "Syracuse Model." Imagine a horror movie shot entirely in a high school after hours, or a workplace comedy set in the faculty lounge.
The partnership with Hulu remains their strongest asset, but as the streaming wars continue to evolve, American High is positioned as a "supplier of choice." They provide reliable, high-quality content that draws in the younger demographic that advertisers are desperate to reach.
If you want to understand the future of the American High production company, look at their recent casting. They are pulling in talent like Ayo Edebiri, Rachel Sennott, and other rising stars who define the current "cool" of comedy. They have their finger on the pulse.
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Actionable Insights for Filmmakers and Fans
If you're a filmmaker looking at what they've done, there are three major takeaways.
First, own your locations. If you can control your environment, you control your budget. Second, niche down. By becoming the "teen movie guys," they made themselves indispensable to distributors. Third, embrace your geography. You don't need to be in Los Angeles to make movies that the whole world watches. Syracuse is just as good, and a lot cheaper.
For the fans, the message is simpler: support original stories. In a world of "IP" and reboots, American High is actually trying to create new characters and new situations. Even if a joke misses or a plot point is a bit cliché, it's better than watching the tenth version of a movie you saw twenty years ago.
The next time you're scrolling through a streaming menu and see a movie that looks like it has that specific, grainy, upstate New York glow, give it a shot. It might just be the next cult classic born in a converted middle school classroom.
To keep track of their upcoming slate, you should follow the trade publications like Variety or The Hollywood Reporter, specifically searching for their "Hulu Originals" announcements. Often, their films drop with very little marketing fanfare but blow up on social media within 48 hours. Keep an eye on the "American High" logo in the opening credits—it’s becoming a seal of quality for anyone who misses the days when movies were allowed to be R-rated, ridiculous, and surprisingly sweet.
The studio's impact on the local Syracuse community is also worth watching. They've started programs to train local students in film production, creating a pipeline of talent that stays in the region. This is how you build a sustainable film industry outside of the major hubs. It's not just about making movies; it's about building an ecosystem.
Ultimately, American High is proof that the "middle-class movie" isn't dead. It just needed a new home. And it found one in a repurposed school in the suburbs of New York.