STRANGER THINGS S4: 5 Things It Got Right and 5 It Didn’t

The dust has long settled after the finale of Stranger Things season four. I have to admit that I was satisfied with this installment, even more so than with the previous ones, which were far more disappointing. The next chapter of the adventures of the group of kids from Hawkins has undeniable advantages, which I have listed in this article, but it also has a few flaws, which I have also pointed out. Let me know if you agree with my observations.

On the PLUS side: The Horror of Vecna

Jamie Campbell Bower did an excellent job portraying the main antagonist. Reportedly, he spent half a day putting on the makeup, and he embodied Vecna even when the camera was off. You can see a lot of work in this performance. It is truly remarkable how much the show gained from addressing a rather obvious gap that had existed in this popular series from the very beginning. Until now, we had not dealt with evil in a personal form.

Only now has the horror become much more tangible. Vecna’s character, for obvious reasons, reminds me of Freddy Krueger from A Nightmare on Elm Street, due to his ability to influence victims through dreams, but his story is built upon the myth of Lucifer, one of the fallen angels. However you look at it, both the makeup and the appearance, as well as Vecna’s chilling voice, make the on-screen presence of this antagonist give you goosebumps every single time.

On the MINUS side: Let’s Split Up

I have serious doubts about whether splitting the actions of the characters into three groups was actually a good idea. The subplot involving the Soviet labor camp where Hopper ends up, and the pizza delivery van road trip featuring Mike, Will, and Jonathan, gave the impression that this already colorful world of Stranger Things had become even more colorful, and for a moment, we had the chance to take a breath from the horror happening in Hawkins.

However, I do not know about you, but throughout this season I had the overwhelming impression that these two storylines played a secondary role compared to what was happening in Hawkins and, as a result, lacked real weight — you could watch them while fast-forwarding. Something here, after all, did not quite work as it should have. I felt that what was supposed to serve as a diversion, in fact, only fulfilled that role, without stepping out of it even an inch. And let us not forget that these two plots were carried by characters previously considered main ones in this series — Mike, partly also Eleven (partly, because for most of the season her storyline runs separately), as well as Will, his mother, and of course Hopper.

They only flex their faces and muscles, straining their minds as they try to figure out how to reach their friends in Hawkins or how to help them. Having, in fact, nothing to do for themselves, no separate path that would be important to the story.

On the PLUS side: Wake Up, Kate Bush Is Singing

In connection with the fourth season of Stranger Things, much has been said about the brilliant use of a certain song by Kate Bush, a famous singer popular in the 1980s. It has long been known that Stranger Things handles the use of 1980s music in its soundtrack very well. The series serves in a way as a new, colorful music video for once-popular songs. The way the song Running Up That Hill was used, however, should be regarded as a masterpiece.

I am not at all surprised by the enthusiastic reactions of the song’s author herself, as this clearly gave her quite the promotion. It is enough to say that for some time, the song topped the iTunes charts because of this. And what kind of use are we talking about exactly? This song became, for one of the characters — the red-haired Max — a kind of talisman. While listening to it, she is able to awaken and free herself from Vecna’s control. This happens in the now-famous scene from the fourth episode of the latest season, where we witness Max being halfway to the other side when the mentioned song by Kate Bush starts playing. Much to Vecna’s dismay, Max then returns to the world of the living. A brilliant, breathtaking scene — a beautiful use of a nostalgic song for new purposes.

On the MINUS side: Few Episodes, Too Much Time

When Netflix announced that the new installment of their hit series would have nine episodes, but they would be proportionally longer, the internet buzzed. Once again, the Duffer Brothers decided to act against the habits of the entire television world and deliver episodes so long that almost each of them qualified as a feature-length film. Although the quality of the production spoke to me, and the impressions the episodes provided could be compared to cinematic ones — mainly due to the scope of the production — honestly speaking, this extended format did not convince me at all.

I belong to that group of serial viewers who value routine. I am used to ending my day with one (at most two) episodes of my favorite show, each lasting no more than an hour. This is the kind of format that makes it harder for me to commit to a full-length film, as I often do not have time for a two-hour screening in the evenings, so I prefer a shorter, serial one. With the fourth Stranger Things, I had to significantly change my routine and bend my habits. I will not say it was not worth it, because overall I consider the production successful; however, the structure of individual episodes often suggested that the creators could have easily done without some scenes. More than once, I had the impression that the episodes were deliberately extended. The series could definitely have been edited in such a way as to make it a standard thirteen-episode format, more comfortable for viewing.

On the PLUS side: We Hit Pause

Many people keep complaining about Netflix’s new policy of introducing breaks in the release of new show seasons. That year, productions such as Ozark, Better Call Saul, and indeed Stranger Things were delivered to us in parts.

This is quite a change, especially for those who for years had grown accustomed to the fact that in the case of original Netflix content, we always received everything at once, which made it possible to engage in binge-watching. However, I am convinced that Netflix did its homework and analyzed well the decision not to release an entire season at once, deciding instead to divide it into stages, mainly because it simply looked closely at the actions of the competition. HBO, Disney, as well as Amazon and Apple — all, to a greater or lesser extent, practice releasing episodes once a week.

I think Netflix’s new policy both takes into account how the competition operates and simply stems from the fact that the TV market is currently oversaturated, which is why people much more often watch a few episodes per week of various productions from different sources, instead of devouring one show in a single sitting.

Thanks to the fact that Stranger Things was divided into two parts, I managed to catch up with the series before the finale aired. In my opinion, it was therefore a very good decision, and I will defend it. Not to mention that it is an element that skillfully builds tension, allowing us to hold our breath before the grand finale.

On the MINUS side: A Cliché

I know that being a screenwriter is not easy. I know that many times they have to resort to narrative clichés to create a link with other, leading storylines. I also know that the series Stranger Things is based on the rules of the coming of age genre, which by its very nature revisits the same themes over and over again. But seriously — in such a brilliantly written production, in which we are often surprised by nuances like excellent dialogue or unconventional plot twists — did we really have to get such a painfully worn-out trope as the motif of Lucas sucking up to his new buddies only to realize that his old friends are better? Did we really need such blatantly exaggerated school bullying scenes aimed at Eleven, just to tick off yet another flagship theme of the coming-of-age genre? Did Robin’s romantic subplot really have to be so sentimental?

I object to such obvious mockery of the viewer’s intelligence. These are elements the average viewer will not pay attention to, treating them as the background for the main events; nevertheless, if you aspire to the title of Netflix’s best production, something that is supposed to set the standard (and I think the creators are aware that they are indeed making history), then even in such seemingly obvious details, I would prefer to receive something more refined.

On the PLUS side: Talk, Talk, Talk

Stranger Things is, of course, a series in which a lot happens. The Duffer Brothers are not particularly fond of narrative stagnation — they prefer to get straight to the point. Never before, however, had I realized that these moments of action and fast-paced adventure are very skillfully interwoven — or even enhanced — by cleverly written dialogues. While watching the fourth season of Stranger Things, it finally struck me that it is precisely thanks to these vivid conversations that we so easily buy into the idea that we are dealing with a palette of exceptionally interesting characters, connected to one another like neurons in a network.

Particular attention should be paid to the sharp exchanges between Steve and Dustin (though by now we have grown used to those), and the dialogues featuring the new character — the cheerful Argyle — are also amusing. The true master of spoken lines, however, remains Maya Hawke, who plays Robin. She fires them off like a machine gun. There is a lot in these lines — not only biting humor but also genuine emotion. The moment that stuck with me the most is the scene where Eddie, joking with Dustin, suddenly looks him straight in the eyes and says — Never change. That scene was perfectly acted.

On the MINUS side: We Are Not Afraid of the Grim Reaper

The fourth season of Stranger Things dove much deeper into the horror genre than previous installments. All this thanks to the bloodthirsty, deadly character of Vecna and the clear references to such classics as A Nightmare on Elm Street. But there is no horror without death, as the fear of it is the very essence of terror. After the media announcements that this time the Duffer Brothers would decide to kill off one of the key characters, I was curious to see who it would be.

To my disappointment, they did not follow through on that promise, and as viewers, we were thus somewhat deceived. The main problem with this decision, however, is that it stands in direct contradiction to the horror atmosphere that this season so strongly embraced. You cannot seriously tell me that killing off Eddie — a new and clearly secondary character — fulfills that promise. You cannot tell me that the death of this character fits the drama and sense of danger the heroes face.

In my opinion, the Duffer Brothers simply lacked the courage. It is not that they did not have an idea for killing off a major character — I am sure such discussions must have come up during the writing process. They were just too afraid of a negative fan reaction, given how emotionally attached the audience is to both the series and its characters. After all, each character represents something — a personality type, a style, an ethnic or even sexual minority — so killing one off would mean alienating the group of fans who identified with them. Eddie was therefore the convenient, low-risk choice.

I do not consider Max’s coma to be death, because her vital functions were, after all, restored — though I do not really see why. In other words, if you play at horror, if you want to be serious and show the risk and the magnitude of the threat the characters face, then you should do something that clearly proves that the fun is over — that we’ve grown up and that the risk of death looms over us.

Stranger Things is a story about growing up in deadly circumstances, but the characters in this story are still hidden under some hard-to-define protective shell, so that at the end of every season they can hug again and politely go their separate ways.

On the PLUS side: New Faces

A lot of freshness was brought to the fourth season by new characters. Honestly, this is probably the best use of the popular “script refresh” technique in the entire history of this show. I do not remember ever being so engaged with the newcomers who joined the familiar group of likable teenagers. My heart was mainly stolen by Eddie, but I also greatly enjoyed Argyle.

Standing out from the rest of the cast with his charisma was Mason Dye, who played the crowd-favorite basketball team captain, Jason Carver, for whose attention Lucas competes early on. The undisputed king of the new supporting cast, however, remains Jamie Campbell Bower and his interpretation of Vecna — but I have already dedicated a separate paragraph to him.

In any case, things have become even more diverse here; we get to see even more reactions to the growing evil, and while watching the series, it is impossible not to find someone in this vast ensemble to sympathize with. Suffice it to say that even background characters received from the screenwriters enough distinctive lines and moments to play that they became vivid and no longer serve merely as the backdrop for the main group of heroes.

On the MINUS side: Eleven Misses the Mark

Call me an ignoramus. Call me blind. Throw tomatoes at me for what I am about to say, but to me, Millie Bobby Brown is a talentless actress and one of the most overrated stars in contemporary Hollywood. I completely fail to understand the hype surrounding this dimly shining star. Her acting does not reach me — in my opinion, her method is painfully formulaic, consisting essentially of two expressions: the one where Eleven is calm and seems not to fully grasp what is happening around her, and the one where she screams and uses her power.

This character does not excite me; she has no charisma in my view and sometimes even irritates with her awkwardness. Of course, I admit that she has a lovely face — it is very easy to empathize with her because she instantly evokes warmth with her looks — but honestly, neither the character nor the acting convinces me.

I do not know whether to blame the screenwriters or the actress herself, who, just like on screen, annoys me off screen as well, because she acts like some kind of superstar. Perhaps I am being unfair — I do not know how much effort she actually puts into the role or what she brings to it personally — but the final result does not convince me.