Angelus News | July 29, 2022 | Vol. 7 No. 15

NOW PLAYING STRANGER THINGS
WHEN THE DEVIL IS AT THE DOOR
The fourth season of ‘Stranger Things’ needs
a little less hellfire and a little more heaven.
BY HANNAH LONG
Gaten Matarazzo, Joseph
Quinn, and Finn Wolfhard in
the fourth season of Netflix’s
“Stranger Things.” | IMDB
When the Netflix show
“Stranger Things” premiered
in the summer of
2016, it was a surprise nostalgia-fueled
hit. But more important to its success,
it was charming. And ultimately,
despite its focus on nerdy outcasts, it
was an ode to the power of traditional
community and intact families.
Consider the adult leads. In many
1980s films, the theme of divorce
looms large, while united parents are
written as square and reactionary. In
a similar vein, the only sympathetic,
competent adults in “Stranger Things”
tend to be single parents, allies to their
free-spirited children. But season one
does something interesting with that
convention.
Loving father Chief Jim Hopper (David
Harbour) and devoted mom Joyce
Byers (Winona Ryder) form a team
which is, archetypally, a united family.
The two of them ultimately descend
into hell to rescue Joyce’s son. The
shot where they resurrect and cradle
him is striking cinematic iconography.
In that moment, even while each is
unmarried, they typify a complete
family, rebuking corrupt, indifferent
parents not through their singleness,
but through their unity. This, the show
asserts, is how families should be.
Subsequent seasons have lost that
vision. Increasingly glorifying rebellious
loners instead of recognizing
the beauty of united communities has
kneecapped each season, even the
ambitious and engrossing new volume.
At least the power of friendship is still
important, but volume four’s mythology
is so sprawling that it overshadows
the sorts of community bonds that were
concretely established in season one.
On the other hand, there are some
bonds that are well-developed in the
show. Now that Mike (Finn Wolfhard),
Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), and Lucas
(Caleb McLaughlin) have moved
on to Hawkins High School, they’ve
been inducted into the high school
“Hellfire” Dungeons & Dragons Club.
While Lucas defects to the basketball
team, Mike and Dustin fall under the
sway of charismatic Hellfire leader
Eddie Munson (Joseph Quinn), a
metalhead 19-year-old who’s flunked
two years of school.
Eddie recognizes Dustin and Mike as
“the future of Hellfire” and describes
the gawky freshmen as “little lost
sheep” (a later, similar line will make
his Christ figure status unmistakable).
He is a saint of loserdom, ranting
loudly in the cafeteria about “forced
conformity” being “the real monster,”
not the satanic panic sweeping 1980s
America. (He follows this rant against
conformity by bullying Mike and
Dustin into doing things his way.)
The only thing is … Satan? He really
is stalking the streets — or understreets
28 • ANGELUS • July 29, 2022