Spoilers follow Stranger Thingsuntil the series finale.
Stranger Things burst into the pop culture zeitgeist 10 years ago and instantly became a global phenomenon, captivating audiences for five seasons and 42 episodes. The Netflix series, an original story from then-newcomers Matt and Ross Duffer, was nostalgic for the '80s but gave us indelible characters and performances that captured our collective hearts. As we entered the final two hours on December 31, anticipation for Stranger Things to land had reached the same level as Game of Thrones and Lost in the lead-up to those shows' finales. As we know, it's impossible to please everyone, but the Duffers' series finale puts the characters first and provides an emotional closure that makes up for some of the less satisfying decisions.
Although the two-hour, eight-minute running time of “Chapter Eight: The Right Side Up” suggests the conclusion of an entire film, the ending is actually the sum of two parts, modeled loosely on Peter Jackson's “The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.” Here, the first hour is a mega-budget collage homage to some of the great action classics of the '80s era – Red Dawn, Aliens, Star Wars: Return of the Jedi and even the TV miniseries It. And the second hour serves as an extended epilogue that gives nearly every significant character in the ensemble a parting moment. The resolution portion of the action, in particular, culminates early when Vecna's Void descends into Inverted Hawkins, knocks beloved Steve Harrington (Joe Keery) off the WSQK radio tower, and then plunges into darkness. After a sneaky lengthy pause, Steve is revealed to be alive and saved from certain death by Jonathan Byers (Charlie Heaton), in what ranks as the biggest blow of the entire episode.
After this, the scale of the several battles that ended in the Abyss becomes intense and effective. What happens to Kali (Linnea Berthelsen) is especially painful, especially after Hopper's incredibly poignant speech to Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) about their suicide pact. But her desire to give El a life beyond their shared pain gives her character resonance and purpose. On the other hand, as expected, the unrepentant rage and sadism of military figures Dr. Kay (Linda Hamilton) and Lt. Akers (Alex Breaux) are never contextualized in the allotted time, making them the series' most disposable characters. Hamilton deserved better.
Otherwise, it all leads into the Abyss, where the hand-to-hand combat between Vecna ​​(Jamie Campbell Bowers) and Eleven is designed to be personal and intense. And the mega-mind flayer boss battle plays out like a D&D campaign moment on steroids. Despite all the bullets and Molotov cocktails, the most satisfying scenes come when Nancy (Natalia Dyer) frees her tormented little sister Holly (Nell Fisher) from her Vecna cocoon, and then when Joyce Byers (Winona Ryder) gets her moment, stopping the villain's death rattles by cutting him to pieces, interspersed with a deeply moving montage of all the pain and death he's caused residents of Hawkins. The Duffers did a great job with all the characters, not just reducing this moment to a cathartic act, but also reminding us of the enormous price this city and its people had to pay.
In terms of bang for your buck, the final season was a feast for the eyes and ears. In the last episode, the tower scene, Max, Kali and Al finally getting into Henry's mind at the Creel house, as well as the tense standoff in the upside-down Hawkins Laboratory with Kali, El, Hopper and Murray (Brett Gelman) are great set pieces. And I'm not disappointed that much of the unanswered lore was dropped with the Mind Flayer mystery stone, because it led to Bowers' masterful performance as Henry watches his younger self embrace the evil within after killing that mysterious man in the cave. It wasn't circumstances that turned Henry into 001 in Vecna; it was Henry merging his darkest heart with the Mind Flayer's intentions, and that's a lot better than a redemption arc when so much damage was done.
And let me add that the Duffers better prepare for the realities of music licensing after the show, because the chances of getting the budget to use the kind of quality needles they did on this series again may never arise again. The episode is chock-full of excellent choices, even beyond Prince's “When Dove Cries” and “Purple Rain,” including inclusions of Cowboy Junkies, Pixies, Fleetwood Mac and the final emotional punch of David Bowie's “Heroes.”
Leading up to the final hour, if you weren't a fan of Return of the King's multiple endings, you were probably feeling every minute of the consecutive chapter endings. If anything seems out of bounds, it's the radio retelling of Robin (Maya Hawke) and the graduation episode. Yes, they're meant to give everyone in town one last moment in the sun, but by the end it really starts to feel like we're all in the stands, writhing under the blazing sun. Much more successful are the intimate goodbyes: the older kids accepting their futures but still longingly wanting to maintain their bond, Hopper and Joyce's engagement at Enzo's, and the OG D&D gang's final campaign.
I'm especially glad that the Duffers didn't buy into the series finale's bloodbath methodology, where the ranks of characters must descend to evoke the audience's feelings. Instead, they stayed true to what was most important about their show—their characters and the deep relationships they developed over five seasons. Life had already been extremely cruel to Hawkins and each of its citizens. The goal of a D&D campaign is to give our heroes and their extended circle momentary peace and a sense of victory. You spend time developing your character, discovering each other's talents and using them when needed most. In the end—often your hit points are short and broken—you emerge victorious together and are ready for the next adventure. The Duffers never lost sight of this from start to finish.
And it's summed up perfectly in Mike's (Finn Wolfhard) Stand By Me-style review of how he saw his friend's future. It was a sob-inducing and bittersweet way to tie into the deep importance of the narrative that remains the beating heart of this series… although the Duffers' cake-and-eat-it-too closure on Al is less satisfying the more you think about it. If you're a realist, Kali's sacrifice didn't give her sister a future, and El's choice means she truly lived a terrible life full of loss and didn't get a happy ending for herself. If you're an optimist like Mike, you can imagine she lives, but what a bittersweet existence it is to live alone. However, Stranger Things has always been a modern fairytale, rooted in Generation X memories of an unhindered childhood threatened by the reality of imagined evil. That the fairy tale's mythical heroines—El and Kali—were the vehicle through which all of Hawkins' characters (except Ted) were able to grow into their best selves is a story grounded in truths of life, and one that was worth the visit.
