Netflix dropped Stranger Things 2 onto its streaming platform the weekend before Halloween, and I snapped up all nine episodes before Monday rolled around.  Yes, it’s that addictive.  Since then, I’ve been meaning to write something about it, but needed more time to formulate how to discuss it.  This time, I’m going to try something different from other blog posts.

Stranger Things 1 was magic.  It was a sheer joy to watch, with well-developed relationships and a gripping story, soaked in atmosphere.  Stranger Things 2 didn’t quite recapture that magic, which would have been a feat, though it was still great television.  To its credit, season 2 devoted time to plot elements that vexed some viewers from the first season, including justice for Barb.

The complaint that Stranger Things 1 was derivative vexed me.  On a superficial level, sure (it does reference some eighties movies, gasp), but on an emotional level, absolutely not.  Stranger Things is stuffed full of real emotions and real relationships, plus a hundred realistic nonverbal moments served up by the stellar cast.  The boys are well-developed characters, yet their struggles with fitting in, romance, and belonging are universal.  Nancy’s character is a twist on the stereotypical teenage ingenue.  Instead of being easily led, she actively searches for her way in life.  Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler have a semi-functional marriage and struggle to communicate with their children.  Joyce’s struggle as an overwhelmed single mother is palpable, as are the embers of her past relationship with Hopper.

Stranger Things shines when the focus is on the emotional landscape of its characters.  Unlike much of the stories today, it’s a show about underdogs.  Bullying is prevalent, not just among the younger characters.  Stranger Things 1 contained several scenes where it was clear that townspeople judged Joyce, and that her behavior appeared unhinged to them.  Stranger Things 2 faltered when it focused on action over emotions.

Not only is Stranger Things about underdogs, but it’s about a select group of people who know what’s really going on.  Between Stranger Things 1 and 2, none of the main characters told the rest of the town about the Upside Down.  Nancy and Jonathan seek a reporter to bring the misdeeds of Hawkins lab to the public, to get justice for Barb.  However, they decide to dilute the story, removing the supernatural elements so that people will believe it.

Though Stranger Things has its dark moments, innocence and hope pervade the show.  The kids make it through dangerous circumstances unscathed.  Against steep odds, Will is saved twice.  Though it appears Steve is influencing Nancy to be more like him, the opposite happens.  Stranger Things 2 ended with a middle school dance and shy first kisses, and the scene did not feel out of place.

Stranger Things has struck such a chord, not because of its nostalgia for eighties pop culture, but what eighties pop culture meant.  While I haven’t seen all the big eighties movies, it’s clear that the decade had more than its share of plucky kids, optimism, and prevailing against impossible odds.  The eighties were a more innocent time, where people seemed to have a faith that they could triumph over the threats they faced.

We don’t live in times like that anymore.  The difference between then and now was illustrated clearly in the beginning of Stranger Things 1.  The boys ride their bikes home at night with no parental supervision.  These days, you would be hard pressed to find a parent who would let their kids bike home at night alone.  And, that’s how Will gets abducted into the Upside Down.  So maybe what Stranger Things aims to tell us is that the innocent approach leaves us open to attack and loss.  Evil lurks, maybe as close as a parallel dimension away, waiting to come for us.  Though in contrast to our pessimistic worldview, Will doesn’t die.  Maybe the point is that we’re right in some ways and wrong in others.

Eleven is the other main character whose arcs deal with the disruption of innocence.  We never see her as a normal kid, but in Stranger Things 2, she very clearly grapples with the kind of life she can have going forward.  She isn’t normal, and she doesn’t get to live like a normal child.  Instead of the possibilities a child should have, her future seems constricted to a lifetime of hiding.  That’s why her interactions with Kali are so powerful.  Kali seems safe: she understands and accepts Eleven’s abnormalities, and encourages Eleven to leave normal life behind.  Eleven realizes what Kali offers is inflicting the same kind of pain on others that Eleven experienced, so she leaves to defend her friends in Hawkins before committing any crimes she can’t undo.  It’s a refreshing choice in these days of deep cynicism.

Stranger Things asks an important question: can we recapture innocence?  Will does, more or less.  Whether Eleven will or not is another story.  Her reclaiming her real name, Jane, is a start.