After ten years and five seasons, Stranger Things finally comes to a muddled conclusion that is best described as contractually obligated.
What began as a surprise hit for Netflix all the way back in 2016 has now ballooned into a shapeless cash cow terrified of the end. Once upon a time, you could trust the series to emulate its 80s influences with surprise twists and deaths that were met with unsentimental finality. Today, you can practically see the agents and producers off-screen at every turn begging to keep the characters going well past their expiration dates just in case we get a spin-off or two.
The woefully lengthy production schedules haven't helped any. The series takes place over a five-year period, only now the young cast has aged into their twenties and in some cases beyond, changing the dynamics and tension entirely. It's easy to see how differently some of the scenes would have played had the show come out on a yearly basis.
Some of that is logistics and the global pandemic, but a lot of it falls squarely on how bloated the storytelling and pointless mythology has become. Most of the episodes in the final season are spent on exposition, where characters huddle together to narrate new concepts, locations, and enemies, as if the series suddenly didn't trust the good thing it already had.
Likewise, the cast balloons even further at the last minute, with an entire new generation of kids showing up in a crass move to establish potential sequels. Despite eight horrifically long episodes, we barely spend enough time to the cast we already know and love. By the time the Return of the King -style final act rolls around, none of it feels earned or welcome.
The Duffer Brothers have said in numerous interviews this is the ending they devised ten years ago, and it shows in the worst way. Like it or not, Stranger Things changed along the decade. Clinging to an ending as if it were set in stone only forces the conclusion into a rigid structure that hurts the narrative.
There are momentary glimpses of a better, more satisfying finale, and to the series' credit there's even a slight sense of finality in the last half hour. As ever, all of it is filtered nostalgia of someone else's cinema, but at least it's heartfelt. Those familiar with the classic Stephen King adptation Stand By Me will feel their heart skip a beat, especially in a year that saw the devastating loss of Rob Reiner mere weeks earlier.
But the road there is nowhere near as satisfying. Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower) is no longer the menacing threat that could potentially kill anyone at any time. Instead, he disappears for large chunks at a time, leaving the characters in an awkward place of talking about how scary he is instead of the series showing us. There's a new villain, Dr. Kay (Linda Hamilton), who feels even more like an afterthought. It feels downright criminal to bring in someone of Hamilton's caliber and then do nothing with her, but that's exactly where we are with Stranger Things. We even see the return of old characters from bit parts half a decade ago, only to realize they're here to ensure we have cannon fodder as the main cast has well-negotiated plot armor for the future.
Worse yet is how the series is unable to move on from the few iconic moments of its own to create new ones. We're still stuck reminiscing the battle of Starcourt from the third season, and the beloved run through the Upside Down as 80s power pop triumphantly soars gets yet another major sequence. Only this time there's none of the emotion or expectation tied to it. Instead, it feels calculated and unwelcome, like a remix of a remix that doesn't understand what made it so powerful in the first place.
Series stalwarts Winona Ryder, David Harbour, Joe Keery, and Maya Hawke do what they can with increasingly smaller roles. It's especially tough to see Ryder and Harbour relegated to supportive background extras. Harbour's weathered father figure to Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) has experienced so much during the show that every dangerous moment now comes across as a trifle. He's never in danger because he's already done each of these fake-outs before.
Of the young main cast, it's Sadie Sink and Caleb McLaughlin who prove the surprise MVPs this year. They don't get much to do, but they make the most of tearful reunions and solemn goodbyes, and we can see how much they've improved as actors over the years.
As the big finale reached its baffling two-hour climax, I found myself checking the time more than once and writing in my notes that most of this could have been an email. The big beats don't land, the action is fanservice-heavy in the worst kind of way, and it all has an air of getting things done because we've come this far.
But at least it's an ending. Let's leave it at that, right, Netflix?
