Written by Andreas Babiolakis

Binge, Fringe, or Singe? is our television series that will cover the latest seasons, miniseries, and more. Binge is our recommendation to marathon the reviewed season. Fringe means it won’t be everyone’s favourite show, but is worth a try (maybe there are issues with it). Singe means to avoid the reviewed series at all costs.

Warning: Stranger Things season four spoilers are littered throughout this review. Reader discretion is advised.

It’s time for me to be way too late to the Netflix game again. Now that the dust has settled around Stranger Things and its fourth season, I can safely say that it is neither the greatest show out there right now, nor is it a heaping pile of mediocrity sold on the idea of nostalgia to those thirsty to yearn. It is quite good, and easily one of the better seasons of a series that has often been the subject of the debate involving style over substance in a storytelling medium. I feel like it is the first time that Stranger Things is authentically driven by its script more than anything else, and you can sense this difference almost instantly. This rings true for the majority of the season (both parts, should you be so inclined to wonder), and that is already a sign of improvement for a show that has always been good enough to be interested in, but never strong enough to maintain its impact on me. That’s still true with this fourth season, but I was actually anticipating the next episode every instance for the first time whilst watching Stranger Things.

The biggest issue this season has is that it almost feels like it had to pick up the slack of the previous season (which was still a neat little watch, but is easily the weakest of the entire series). Season three was the same old story told differently, with enough rehashing around new characters and plot threads to feel like this season was necessary but it most certainly could have been told differently. For instance, I feel like a lot of Eleven’s storyline in season four could have easily been a part of the third season (at least her struggling to fit in after her discovery of her new identity, if anything). Some of season four had to exist here (like Hopper’s predicament having survived the explosion, only to wind up a prisoner in Kamchatka), since the previous episodes had to set these up, and I am still knocking season three more than this most recent one, but my point is that this all leads to these last nine episodes and their necessity to tell a lot of the bigger picture. Almost too much, to be frank.

These episodes are long, and I mean a little over long, with the average episode length being around an hour and twenty minutes (the finale is a whopping two and a half hours). My main issue is that these episodes have to be this long, because I don’t think I would cut much out of them, but you can certainly feel that they carry on for quite a bit once you reach that hour mark and realize “there are twenty more minutes to go?”. Still, I would prefer that a series does too much rather than too little, and I can’t say that I am left wanting more, so at least that itch has been tended to. Within these bloated episodes are powerful moments (that actually feel earned: no longer do these aesthetically brilliant moments feel surface level at best) and the deepest dive into the lore of this Indiana horror show. We’re not running the same circles. We’ve gotten something new; something bolder; something stranger.

The friends and lovers we once knew are starting to spread apart. Mike and Dustin are a part of the Hellfire Club, continuing their love of Dungeons and Dragons underneath the watchful eye of thrash metal obsessive Eddie Munson. The Byers and Eleven are now in California, and no one has settled in (especially Eleven, who is relentlessly bullied at school). Lucas is moonlighting as a jock on the basketball team (as a benchwarmer, but he does help seal a game winner that boosts his stature), while his ex girlfriend Max is diving into a deep state of depression following the death of her brother Billy. Hopper is incarcerated and tortured by Soviet guards, but he is vying for a way out with the help of an informant. These schisms only seem to break these characters further and further from each other as the season goes on, in ways that feel true to the story; Lucas feigns being a popular kid and not interested in the “geeky” stuff he actually loves; Eleven gets into serious trouble after retaliating against a bully, and is arrested and then subsequently linked back to the lab she once escaped; Eddie is blamed for the mysterious deaths in the area (an easy scapegoat given his affinity for metal music and occultist imagery, but he is a pal and a half and wouldn’t do these things), and there is a witch hunt to capture him; Joyce and Murray, on their way to save Hopper (after a random tip is sent to them) have been conned themselves and are now also trapped.

Most of this happens before we even really get familiar with this season’s monster-of-the-week (or the month, by the time you get around to finishing the season): Vecna. This humanoid demon is right out of the Freddy Kreuger playbook (Robert Englund actually has a noteworthy cameo appearance in this season), but there’s also so much more to him: actual answers. For the first time in Stranger Things, we actually find out why things are the way that they are, and we’re not just setting up to face another demogorgon or demodog (these are actually less worrisome by now): we’re seeing why they exist. Vecna himself is extremely textured as a villain, and not just some baddie. He is Henry Creel, also known as 001 (yes, the first subject that spawned the experiments that Eleven is a part of), who murdered members of his family with his psychic powers, and then was placed under Martin Brenner’s control and watch (never thought we’d see Brenner again, or that we’d actually kind of root for him, but here we are). Eleven has had visions of her slaughtering the other patients in the lab all of these years. This was actually Henry’s doing, and Eleven used her powers to cast him out of our reality; this subsequently sent Henry to a new realm, and he was able to destroy it in the ways that he saw fit. This is the Upside Down, as the Hawkins kids have labeled it. Everything has fallen into place.

Before the stars align, Stranger Things really builds up its characters and their mental states, positions of danger, and other concerns. Max herself is vulnerable and the perfect next target of Vecna to kill, but he’s not just going around and preying on the innocent. No. He is trying to open a massive entryway from his world to ours, through four sub portals that will break Hawkins into pieces. He can transcend time and space, and has lined every single piece up to this point, including the usage of Billy as a sacrificial lamb to get to Max. Vecna is not just horrifying: he’s seemingly unbeatable. Not only that, but this was the best villain to finally get right. We understand his depressing backstory, why he turned as sour and hateful as he did, and why all of this is happening in the first place. On a very minor level, this actually strengthens the other three seasons in hindsight: we see the roads leading to Vecna a lot more clearly now, even if they weren’t always the most efficient ways to get where the story needed to arrive at.

On this particular part of the journey, we have brilliant performance after brilliant performance. David Harbour deals with the ass kickings of his entire career with his own stern retaliations. Noah Schnapp’s loneliness and vulnerability felt like a stab to the heart every time he broke. Caleb McLaughlin has never been better utilized in this series, as he is no longer just the master of retorts: he is extremely present and in harm’s way. Millie Bobby Brown faces Eleven’s traumatic past with fresh new eyes, and commits to some really harrowing moments. Gaten Matarazzo actually caused my eyes to well up on a number of occasions (especially in the epilogue of the season), and I wish this guy would be cast in more productions. Joseph Quinn was a fantastic new addition, and I wish Eddie could have stuck around for more. I could keep going by listing off the magnetism of performers like Finn Wolfhard, Winona Ryder, and Maya Hawke, but we’d be here all day. I needed to save the best for last: Sadie Sink as Max. I knew she could act before, but where the hell did this level of prowess and her ability to command the screen come from? As she dips into Max’s depression, being the prey of Vecna, and so many other emotional balancing acts, she hit the right notes every single time. The Emmy’s made a lot of mistakes with this year’s nominees, but missing out on one of the primary reasons to even watch Stranger Things this year (with Sink’s performance) has to be one of their biggest.

A more thorough story and the height of these performances help carry Stranger Things past being just a nostalgia fest, but we can most certainly enjoy these elements of the show more than ever now. If there was ever a season to persistently play Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” (great taste in music, Max, and there’s no sarcasm here), or to have a character jam out to Metallica’s “Master of Puppets”, it was this one. Again, like the synth score’s swelling and the return of the red-purple colour schemes, the nostalgic easter eggs also feel like they were worked up to, and I don’t feel as bogged down by winks and nudges like I did in some of the earlier Stranger Things episodes. This time, the story actually did come first (even if there is an overcompensation with these titanically-long episodes). Let the Duffer brothers have a bit of fun.

Other seasons ended with a hint of something mysterious around the corner, but Stranger Things is now setting up for the final season, and I appreciate that the Duffers aren’t screwing around. Vecna threatened Eleven that this was only the start, and these seemed like empty words coming from a being on its deathbed. He was sadly right, as his plan can carry on without him. Hawkins has split into pieces (this event was misrepresented as an “earthquake”, or a portal into Hell by the same sickos that tried to kill Eddie at the stake). It will continue to sink or break apart; we will have to see what happens. For now, the next season of Stranger Things is going to be the end of the entire story, and I think it’s safe to assume that things will work out in typical fashion for the show (it can afford to take some bigger risks even still). One thing may be for sure: if season four is any indication of where the show is heading, Stranger Things will hopefully end on a bang. Finally, it at least all feels worth it to some degree.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.

Stranger Things Season 4: Binge, Fringe, or Singe?

Written by Andreas Babiolakis