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| Courtesy of Netflix |
I
rarely write about television shows for this column, primarily because it’s not
really my thing. I can’t even keep up with the volume of films being unleashed,
let alone expand into a different medium. However, every once in a while I dip
my toe into the waters of TV criticism when something connects with my
particular interests.
That’s
precisely what happened with Stranger Things, the new Netflix series that
premiered last weekend. All eight episodes are now available to watch and they
play out like one giant movie. The show – a combination of horror, sci-fi and
adolescent angst – seemed to pop up out of nowhere, and then a wave of positive
buzz hit me from several writers and critics whose opinions I trust implicitly.
I
ignored the raves for a couple of days, mainly because having young daughters
means there’s zero time to get addicted to another ongoing series. But on
Sunday night I figured I’d watch the first episode to see what all the fuss was
about. 10 minutes in, I realized the show’s title card employs the exact same
font that Stephen King used for his books in the 1980s. That’s when I knew there’d
be no sampling the series.
By
Tuesday morning, I was finished with the first season and ready to talk about
it with everyone I know. So it’s safe to say you can believe the hype. It’s
like somebody threw ’80s King and ’80s Steven Spielberg into a blender and Stranger
Things was the weird, fun, disgusting and surprisingly moving result. Considering
those two guys are two of my biggest creative influences, it’s as if Matt and
Ross Duffer (credited as The Duffer Brothers) made this show specifically for
me.
You’ll
have more fun if you don’t know much about the plot going in, so I’ll keep
things vague. Just know that even King himself called the show pure fun and said
it was like watching his own greatest hits. Fortunately, the Duffer Brothers
understand that all these nostalgic winks and pop culture references should be
seasonings and not the main course.
Here
are the basics: in 1983 Indiana, four young friends (Finn Wolfhard, Gaten
Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin and Noah Schnapp) find their suburban world ripped
apart after one of them disappears while riding his bike one night. At the same
time, a mysterious young girl (Millie Bobby Brown) shows up with strange powers
and sinister government agents (led by Matthew Modine) on her trail.
The
adults in town – primarily the local sheriff (David Harbour) and the boy’s
distraught mother (Winona Ryder) – search frantically, but they come up short.
The boys, along with the new member of their group, take it upon themselves to
launch their own investigation, not realizing that two of their older siblings
(Charlie Heaton and Natalia Dyer) had the same idea. Eventually, these various
storylines converge as the characters discover answers to the horrifying
mystery.
If
those purposely broad paragraphs sound like a combination of It and Firestarter (with a little E.T. thrown in for good measure), you’re not wrong. Stranger
Things wears those influences on its sleeve; in fact, it name-checks them. In
a late-season episode, when a character is getting ready to reveal something
weird, she asks the sheriff if he reads Stephen King. If that’s not obvious
enough, we also see a deputy perusing a novel that has a familiar-looking
author on the back.
Of
course, none of this matters unless Stranger Things can stand on its own.
Fortunately, the Duffer Brothers use the inspiration they got from King (metaphysical
horror) and Spielberg (a sense of wonder and adventure in everyday life) to
tell their own epic story in unique ways. Every time I thought I knew where the
plot was headed, a new wrinkle would pop up or a seemingly clichéd character
would suddenly, yet authentically, behave in a different way.
The
series gets some help in this regard from some of the best child actors I’ve
ever seen. Brown is the clear standout – even with a limited amount of dialogue
she’s absolutely incredible at conveying emotion – but Matarazzo’s endearing
character should earn quite a few fans as well. Harbour and Ryder are
phenomenal too, planting narrative seeds early in the show that ultimately
sprout in surprisingly emotional fashion.
Unfortunately,
Modine isn’t afforded the same luxury. His character is intriguing at first,
but he never really develops into more than a generic bad guy. (Perhaps the
Duffer Brothers are planning to flesh him out a bit in season two? A clever bit
of editing certainly leaves the door open for him to return.) Cara Buono, so
great on Mad Men, doesn’t get much to do either. She’s stuck playing the
clueless mother, a role that’s necessary in this kind of story but not exactly
interesting.
Honestly,
the best backhanded compliment I can give Stranger Things is that I wouldn’t
be sad if it didn’t get that all-but-inevitable second season. These eight
episodes are so perfectly constructed – from the pacing, to the gradual way the
mystery reveals itself, to the way it sticks the landing (an important element
King himself often has problems with) – that I’m afraid there’s nowhere to go
but down.
Do
yourself a favor and watch this fantastic series. If you’re anything like me,
eight hours will fly by and you’ll fall in love with these characters.
Stranger
Things is rated TV-14.
Grade:
A-
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