The Whale

Director: Darren Aronofsky
Starring: Brendan Fraser, Sadie Sink, Hong Chau, Ty Simpkins, Samantha Morton, Sathya Sridharan
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R 

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Considering the story for Darren Aronofsky's The Whale originated on stage, it sure has a lot happening, to the point there's barely enough time to come up for air in amidst the unfolding tension. Yes, this adaptation of Samuel Hunter's 2012 play primarily takes place within the confines of a morbidly obese man's home, but this isn't "stagey" or "static," nor is it about ogling at his health rapidly deteriorating health.While the main character has become a sideshow spectacle to the few who encounter him, he knows it, having long ago began a gradual suicide that feels too late to turn back from. There's only one thing left to make right and he's determined to, because no matter what what anyone thinks of him now, it pales in comparison to how harshly he's judged himself. 

It's rare to watch a film you know has to run two hours, yet still fear the protagonist might die at any moment. And that it could happen doing everyday things, like getting up from the couch, going to the bathroom, eating a sandwich, picking something up off the floor, or even just sleeping. Of course, this could happen to anyone at anytime, but Aronofsky immerses us in the protagonist's elevated risk. We know he doesn't have a lot of time left, not only because we're told, but just by looking at him. You also can't help but wonder what outspoken opponents of Brendan Fraser's "fat suit" would consider a suitable alternative since you can't make him gain an unhealthy amount of weight or cast an over 600 pound actor. If they feel the film shouldn't be made then that's a shame since his performance goes far beyond makeup and prosthetics. This is the character's reality, with Fraser going to extraordinary but justifiable lengths to show us why. 

Charlie (Fraser) is a chronically overweight, reclusive English professor teaching online writing courses with his web cam shut off to hide his appearance. The only direct contact he has with the outside world is through his friend and visiting nurse Liz (Hong Chau), the pizza delivery driver who can't see him, and more recently, a New Life Church missionary named Thomas (Ty Simpkins). Despite Liz urging the uninsured, in debt Charlie to agree to go to the hospital for impending heart failure, he stays inside, instead making a last ditch effort to reconnect with his angry, estranged teenage daughter Ellie (Sadie Sink). Since abandoning her and his ex-wife Mary (Samantha Morton) eight years ago to run off with his now deceased former student and male lover, he's embarked on a downward spiral of binge eating. Pulling out all the stops to reconcile with an unreceptive Ellie could be his last chance at any kind of redemption, but he's quickly running out of time. 

It's startling how much goes on in this single claustrophobic location, with unbearable suspense coming from everyday situations that would seem mundane under normal circumstances. Still, this opens with what seems to be an unusual amount of visitors for Charlie, whose condition is worsening with each passing minute. Immobile, sweaty, suffering from astronomically high blood pressure and stuffing his face with any available junk food, caretaker Liz hasn't exactly given up, but realizes he's reached the end and works to make it as comfortable as possible. There for him in every way as he continuously apologizes, she knows there's nothing more that can be done. But there are a couple of surprises right away, especially for those misled by vague trailers and commercials implying that we'd just be watching someone eat themselves to death on their own sofa. And even if you acknowledge that's partially true, Aronofsky still manages to get a shocking amount of mileage out of it.

The first person who sees Charlie isn't Liz, but a complete stranger in Thomas, a Christian missionary distributing pamphlets who walks in on him in the throes of a somewhat embarrassing medical emergency. We soon sadly realize Charlie is well past the humiliation stage and this kid might be more traumatized than he is. Immediately distrusting of Thomas and thinking religion is the last thing her patient needs now, Liz's vitriol toward the visitor is more complex than it initially appears. So too are his motivations, which seem to extend far past converting Charlie or trying to have him saved. That he keeps returning to help is proof enough of that, even as Charlie's focus remains entirely on Ellie. It's her, his writing class, and an essay on Moby-Dick he's particularly obsessed with that keep him going, at least through this week.

Ellie couldn't possibly be any more hostile toward her dad and it's easy to grasp why given the circumstances, which Charlie takes full responsibility for. One of the most powerful moments comes when Ellie tells him that he finds him more disgusting on the inside than outside, which reflects an honesty he seems to appreciate. He's big on honesty, more than willing to be treated like garbage if it means Ellie can tell the truth and get everything out of her system, no matter how cruel. Charlie also realizes he deserves it and would gladly take a bullet if it meant making even a little headway in repairing their rift. 

While everything traces back to Charlie's betrayal, Ellie's mom isn't exactly blameless for what happens after, as we start to realize the biggest mistake both made was getting married to begin with. That a full portrait is painted of this fractured family without the benefit of flashbacks is a credit to the depth of Hunter's script, which is agonizingly and uncomfortably brought to life by Fraser and the supporting cast.   

Charlie's physical state instantly establishes him as the most sympathetic character, but it's Fraser who makes this individual likeable despite his serious flaws. The shame and regret just pours out of him, as if he woke up that morning, looked in the mirror and suddenly saw someone no longer recognizable at all, but not only because of the weight. His partner died, his daughter hates him and now this. And from what we know about Fraser's extended acting absence, you'd figure the actor had a lot to draw from that may not have existed had he continued along the movie star course he was on fifteen to twenty years ago. Even at his peak, few would have guessed he had something like this in him, as he shines a light on the character's almost improbable, unshakeable optimism in the face of inevitable tragedy. 

As his nurse and confidant, Hong Chau's Liz administers what first seems like "tough love," until her personal connection to Charlie reveals itself. As dark as the material is, the levity and humor springing from their interactions suggest a shorthand rooted in deeper friendship. And those only familiar with Sadie Sink as the resilient Max on Stranger Things will likely be blown away by how well she epitomizes pure teen rage as Ellie, whose own mom even thinks she's evil. 

Having to remain completely detestable throughout, Sink sprinkles a sliver of doubt that Ellie's capable of letting him back in, if only maybe a little. Charlie isn't wrong that she at least cares enough to drop by, even if it's to emotionally bludgeon and bully him, which he takes. And much like Thomas, she just can't bring herself to actually leave. Played by Simpkins, the young missionary might be the most frustratingly complicated character, and after spending most of the film trying to read him, once he's revealed in full, it strangely makes complete sense, while deflating us just the same. 

Charlie's life threatening condition is a psychological one, buried under a crippling food dependency that just as easily could have revolved around drugs, alcohol or even gambling. To say the film targets the overweight ignores how others can feel equally isolated due to any number of reasons or traumatic events. And like many of them, he's already given up, turning his attention to salvaging the only relationship that still matters. While The Whale frequently shows humanity at its worst, with awful people treating each other terribly, its main character refuses to buy that narrative. You can call it misguided or naive, but his belief that everyone still wants to do good might be all he has left.                     

Stranger Things: Season 4 (Volume Two)

Creators: The Duffer Brothers
Starring: Winona Ryder, David Harbour, Millie Bobby Brown, Finn Wolfhard, Gaten Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin, Noah Schnapp, Sadie Sink, Natalia Dyer, Charlie Heaton, Joe Keery, Maya Hawke, Brett Gelman, Priah Ferguson, Matthew Modine, Paul Reiser, Jamie Campbell Bower, Joseph Quinn, Eduardo Franco, Mason Dye, Thomas Wlaschiha, Nikola Ðuričko, Sherman Augustus
Original Airdate: 2022

**The following review contains major 'Stranger Things' spoilers for all of Season 4 **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Whatever your opinion of Stranger Things' two-part supersized fourth season, there's no denying its been the series' most ambitious yet, and for good reason. Wrapping up with two extended episodes and a finale that runs almost two and a half hours long, it's clear the Duffer Brothers were given free reign to run amok, with Netflix setting no creative boundaries. Or, what if they did? It's entirely possible what we've just seen is the result of exhaustive compromises and multiple edits that don't even reflect the complete scope of their vision. That's a scary thought.

All this becomes important to consider as the show readies for its last lap, amidst the looming possibility that things could get even bigger and crazier from here. So while this definitely could have been shortened with little lost, "Chapter 8: Papa" and "Chapter 9: The Piggyback" are far from a slog. Neither are what anyone would categorize as traditional TV episodes due to their running times, but judged as the full-length features they are, it's a massive success.

The penultimate episode is tighter with an explosive finish that helps set the stage for one of the busier, messier action-packed conclusions the series has seen yet. But what makes it work are all the emotional character moments and mystery concerning who makes it out alive, reaching a fever pitch when Eleven collides with Vecna in the ultimate battle of good and evil, with the soul of Hawkins, Indiana hanging in the balance. 

Given everything that could go wrong, it's amazing how much doesn't, largely because the Duffers find a way to keep all the factions of characters simultaneously involved and connected with the same goal despite being geographically separated. There's a lot of cutting back and forth, but it's done really well, leading to an ending with serious ramifications and more than enough juice to carry the story into its fifth and final season, whenever that should come.

With Volume One revealing Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower) as both Henry Creel and 001, the splintered groups prepare for battle as Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) is torn between the increasingly divergent philosophies and methods of Brenner (Matthew Modine) and Owens (Paul Reiser). El's powers are returning thanks to the NINA project, but getting back to Hawkins to stop the carnage will be a challenge, especially with Lt. Colonel Sullivan (Sherman Augustus) still determined to find and eliminate her.  

As Mike (Finn Wolfhard), Will (Noah Schnapp), Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) and Argyle (Eduardo Franco) continue their search for El, Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) out west, Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin), Steve (Joe Keery), Nancy (Natalia Dyer), Robin (Maya Hawke), Eddie (Joseph Quinn) and Erica (Priah Ferguson) are all still in Hawkins, formulating a plan to infiltrate the Upside Down and vanquish Vecna for good. But they'll need to use Max (Sadie Sink) as bait, on the heels of her barely surviving her last frightening near-death encounter with the mind controlling creature. 

With the grandfather clock literally ticking away until Vecna can open the gates to the Upside Down and destroy Hawkins, the gang continues to face danger from every direction as Jason (Mason Dye) and the basketball team are still after the Hellfire Club "cult" they blame for Vecna's brutal murders. Meanwhile in Russia, Joyce (Winona Ryder) and Hopper (David Harbour) are finally reunited, but before they can return home there's some Demogorgon business that needs taking care of.

As its title implies,"Chapter 8: Papa" further fleshes out the emotionally complicated love/hate relationship El has with Brenner, not to mention her role in Henry's monstrous transformation, which was arguably well underway before she sent him spiraling into the Upside Down. And now after appearing to see the light in aiding Owens, mad scientist Dr. Brenner is back in full control freak mode, claiming El isn't yet "ready"for Vecna. It's the latest game being played by a psychotically twisted father figure whose cruel manipulation nurtured and created this monster, who then killed the children he bullied and exploited for years. 

El and Henry were unfortunately the most gifted of Brenner's test subjects, earning them the full brunt of his time and attention, with disastrous consequences. When El takes a stand and tells him off, it's a cold, but short-lived dose of reality, as Sullivan's troops arrive to extinguish them both. Of course, they're no match for a now fully powered El, who telepathically crashes their military chopper in  awesome, Vader-like fashion. 

Considering the Duffer's reluctance to kill off characters, it's somewhat of a breakthrough that Brenner  finally get his, or so it appears. Here's hoping his death sticks this time since backtracking on this would undo everything that's been accomplished in having El grow and mature enough to break from "Papa" for good. As usual, Brenner only shows a conscience or remorse when things go horribly wrong...for him. It's only when he's clinging to life and drawing his final breath that he realizes it might be time to let her go, and even then, he seems more motivated by being forgiven for the unforgivable. El doesn't seem interested, as he slips away, his lifeless body lying in the desert when she escapes into the Surfer Boy Pizza van, reunited with Mike and crew.

A lot of credit should go to Matthew Modine, whose performance took Brenner to another level, bringing shades of humanity to the series' most diabolical character. And that viewers are actually left contemplating how much of his concern was genuine or manufactured is a testament to the mark he left. Going into the final season without him feels right, if El is to move forward, not to mention this also facilitates Owens' inevitable return.

It isn't exactly a secret that Jonathan and younger brother Will were given the short shrift all season, possibly because the entire original group were separated across state lines, only to reconnect in the finale's last 30 minutes. How much of that plot arose from scheduling difficulties or some other considerations we'll never know, but the show makes the most of it, even if the dynamic could be inconvenient at times. Jonathan (whose triangle with Nancy and Steve seems pushed to the next season) and new addition Argyle are mostly used for stoner comic relief while the bigger question revolves around figuring out what Will's deal is. 

Assumptions about Will's sexuality have been simmering since the series' start, but for a character they've done less and less with since Season 1, the writers sure have turned him into a bigger discussion point upon Mike's arrival in California. Will's apparent jealousy over Mike's feelings for El and his emotional outburst in the van (noticed only by concerned older brother Jonathan) over that painting has seemed to only increase that speculation. 

Considering how frustrated diehard fans get over ambiguity and unresolved plot threads, there's likely there's a plan for Will, even if it's probably truer to the era for him to fear coming out at all. While an understandably oblivious Mike misses cues of his best friend's crush on him, it's worth remembering that a similar situation with Robin permanently altered her relationship with Steve, and not necessarily for the better (see this season's clumsily handled Robin sub-plot with the Molly Ringwald dressalike). So, the Duffers will probably need to tread carefully here, doing something that feels authentic to both the character and period, while still complimenting the overall story.

Anyone still wondering where Netflix's budget goes,"Chapter 9: The Piggyback" basically confirms how much of it gets poured into Stranger Things' visual effects, as most of the episode takes place in the Upside Down. While you could argue maybe a little too much time is spent there, it's definitely exciting, with the series again striking soundtrack gold with Eddie having his Metallica moment with the "Master of Puppets" guitar solo and El entering Max's mind to get at Vecna via the makeshift pizza tank, getting around the logistical impossibility of having the entire gang back in Hawkins in time. 

While Mike professing his love for El as she's on the heels of defeat could have come off as corny, it works, mainly because it was a big point in Volume 1 and he provides that extra jolt of motivation for her to get over the hump and win this fight against the big bad of the Upside Down. And by facing a monster in a world she unintentionally helped shape and open, it makes this a lot more personal than her previous season ending battles.

With a bigger than ever cast, the series finds its loophole in killing off key characters by introducing enough compelling new ones that the impact of their deaths feel equally important. Such is the case for Joseph Quinn's delightfully crazed, big-hearted metal head Eddie, who goes through the entire season misunderstood, on the run and hunted like an animal by townsfolk fingering him as a murderer. 

Targeted in what was the very definition of a witch hunt, Eddie's sacrifice and eventual demise give him a hero's exit that recalls Steve's selfless actions at the end of the first season. The emotional moment Dustin shares with Eddie's uncle is one of the series' most moving, enabling Matarazzo to go places with his character he often isn't asked to, providing fitting closure to a brief but impactful friendship that emerged as one of the show's true highlights.

If Wolfhard, Schnapp and Heaton's characters fell somewhat off the radar in these nine episodes, it did allow some other supporting faces to shine through, such as Modine's Brenner and Brett Gelman's Murray. Whether it needed to take nine episodes for Joyce and Murray to bust Hopper out of that prison (and back in again) will be up for debate, but all the hijinks involving Yuri (Nikola Ðuričko) and Enzo (Thomas Wlaschiha) do lead to a satisfying payoff. You could probably bet on not seeing either again, but at least the finale finds the trimmer, samurai-sword wielding Hopper back in full ass-kicking mode, ready to head back home where he belongs.    

Few could have guessed Vecna would again come so close to killing Max that, by all intent and purposes, he does. The blame for that largely falls on psycho jock Jason, as his breaking of the Walkman ensured there would be no Kate Bush to save Max this time. Only Lucas, who puts up a hell of a fight against Jason, and El, who eventually resurrects her. But the sight of Max floating in the air, this time with arms and legs twisting and breaking as blood drips down her face is easily the finale's most jarring moment, further solidifying this as Sadie Sink's season. 

It's usually bad form in entertainment for anyone to use their superpowers to bring back the dead but the Duffers get a pass on this since Max is not only in a coma by episode's end, but the price Hawkins pays couldn't be any steeper. The gates open anyway, Vecna's probably still alive, and what's reported to be an "earthquake" is clearly just beginning. Everyone's reunited (most notably El and Hopper), but they're all in a very bad spot, making this a far cry from the El victories we've become accustomed to.

Closing on a cliffhanger that requires the action to pick up exactly where it left off is a first, leaving unfinished business that seems to require immediate attention when the show returns. Another years-long wait for the remaining episodes might not be feasible this time so the pressure's on for the remaining episodes to have a far faster turnaround. Rather than betting on viewers being as tolerant for another season that equals this in length, you have to think that a return to the tighter, hour-long, seven to nine episode format is the best way to close things out.

Notwithstanding any potential spin-offs, when the book of Stranger Things is written, this could be the season that's most remembered, discussed and argued over. The open-ending appears to take any sizable time jump off the table for the fifth season premiere, but I still contend it would be fascinating for the series' final minutes to take place in present day, but with different actors playing older versions of the surviving characters. But they need to get there first and these two volumes may have helped build a bridge that brings them closer. Until then, this continues defying the odds as Netflix's only long-running series left with true cross-generational appeal. All that's left is sticking the landing.  

Stranger Things: Season 4 (Volume One)

Creators: The Duffer Brothers
Starring: Winona Ryder, David Harbour, Millie Bobby Brown, Finn Wolfhard, Gaten Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin, Noah Schnapp, Sadie Sink, Natalia Dyer, Charlie Heaton, Joe Keery, Maya Hawke, Brett Gelman, Priah Ferguson, Matthew Modine, Paul Reiser, Jamie Campbell Bower, Joseph Quinn, Eduardo Franco, Thomas Wlaschiha, Nikola Ðuričko, Gabriella Pizollo, Mason Dye
Original Airdate: 2022

**The following review contains major 'Stranger Things' spoilers **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

If it seems like years ago since Stranger Things' last season, that's because it was. Three to be exact. While that's a long time for any series to just pick up where it left off without some kind of decline, this would be affected more than most. Given how rapidly its young cast have matured since the show premiered, it's become a popular joke that when these episodes finally dropped the kids would be entering retirement. A break this long definitely doesn't help the series and Netflix's decision to sit on it after completion only compounds the problem. Making matters worse, the streamer somehow managed to shift complaints about the delay to their unusual delivery method, with this half season of episodes spanning as long as an hour and a half before the remaining two episodes (one of which will be 2 hours and 31 minutes) premiere in July. 

Despite all of that practically priming this season to result in an overstuffed mess, it somehow, someway remains Stranger Things, every bit as thrillingly addictive as it's ever been. It takes only about an episode to get reacclimated, but once you do, the Duffer Brothers step on the gas and don't let up. The extended episodes don't "feel" too long and the pacing rarely lags, so while it may be an inconvenience budgeting them out time-wise, that minor obstacle shouldn't impede too much on anyone's binging habits. And as rumored, the season is considerably darker, but deeper, going to places both familiar and sometimes entirely unexpected. 

So heavily influenced by A Nightmare on Elm Street series it may as well double as a modern-day reboot, criticism that younger viewers should just watch the originals instead is noted, but it's an homage done well, and if it prompts the uninitiated to seek those movies out, that's a win-win. It also features some of the series' best performances, most specifically from Millie Bobby Brown and Sadie Sink, both of whom are given some emotionally heavier material to work with this time around. 

A consistently gripping storyline involving her past returns Eleven to first season highs as a protagonist, making us appreciate just how much Brown brings to the table after maybe taking the talented young actress for granted at times. There's also another outstanding performance so pivotal to the plot it can't even be safely discussed without entering spoiler territory. The whole thing just feels larger in scope, but in a good way, setting the stage for the remainder of this season and beyond.

It's 1986 and nine months after the battle inside Starcourt Mall, as Joyce (Winona Ryder), Will (Noah Schnapp) and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton)have moved to California with Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown), who's being bullied at a new school while trying to accept the loss of her powers. This despite writing letters to boyfriend Mike (Finn Wolfhard) back home that imply everything's fine.

Meanwhile, Mike and Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) are immersing themselves in Hawkins High's "Hellfire Club," a Dungeons and Dragons role playing club led by likable manic metal head named Eddie Munson (Joseph Quinn). Key member Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) is now preoccupied with his emerging popularity as the school's star basketball player, separating himself from the rest of the group, including Max (Sadie Sink), who's still mourning her brother Billy's (Dacre Montgomery) death at the hands of the Mind Flayer. 

Soon, the gang must put their heads together when cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham (Grace Van Dien) is haunted by supernatural visions and gruesomely murdered under mysterious circumstances, with the the blame being placed on a fleeing Eddie. But as the group sees signs it could be the work of a creature from the Upside Down, they again join forces with Steve (Joe Keery), Robin (Maya Hawke) and Nancy (Natalia Dyer), to investigate. Meanwhile, Joyce receives a package in California that points toward Hopper (David Harbour) having survived the mall explosion and being held captive in a Russian prison camp. 

As Joyce and Murray (Brett Gelman) plan to retrieve Hopper, Eleven must rely on Owens (Paul Reiser) for protection from an onslaught of U.S. Army agents blaming her for the latest deaths. But now given the opportunity to possibly restore her powers, she'll have to face a painful past, and an unwelcome familiar face, as the monster known as Vecna continues collecting victims in Hawkins.

The distinction between this and previous seasons isn't the episode length or pacing so much as how many stories are simultaneously unfolding over separate locations with various factions of characters. The time jump may only be under a year in show chronology but everyone's in a different place than when we last left them, at least geographically. And where they're all at emotionally is commensurate with how you'd expect these teens to be evolving and maturing as high school students, reflecting our initial amazement at how much older they physically look compared to three years ago. 

Mike, Dustin and Lucas couldn't remain outcast nerds forever so it's fitting they find a pocket of social acceptance without sacrificing any of the quirks or qualities that initially defined their characters. The Hellfire Club is the ideal way to go about this, introducing a compelling new character in Eddie, who brings a new and welcome crazy element that represents a the type of fun 80's archetype that rarely gets old, especially when played this entertainingly by British actor Joseph Quinn. 

From the first season, Dungeons & Dragons has functioned as sort of background wallpaper to the series, with the classic RPG serving as a vehicle for establishing the kids' personalities and status as outsiders. Here it takes center stage, as the Hawkins community is in full satanic panic, looking to pin the recent killings on the harmless misfits who play it, mirroring manufactured hysteria of that time. But even as Mike and Dustin find a friend in Eddie and an outlet for their nerdiness, Lucas starts aligning with the school's jocks as the lure of possible popularity proves too much. He has a choice to make, and how he struggles with it is one of the more effective sub-plots in a half-season stacked with plenty. 

As Lucas' loyalty to the group faces it biggest challenge, Max is psychologically deteriorating before everyone's eyes, remaining sullen, withdrawn and angry following the loss of Billy, making her the perfect mark for Vecna. When hallucinatory visions of doomsday clocks, bloody noses and headaches start to materialize, Max realizes what she's experiencing is far more than teen angst or even a mental breakdown, despite her symptoms functioning as a frightening manifestation of both. She's the next intended victim on Vecna's kill list and only her friends can save her.

The race to rescue Max from the clutches of Vecna in "Chapter Four: Dear Billy" is surprisingly moving and full of enough action and backstory to serve as a de facto finale only a few episodes in. But by this point we're barely halfway there and a series that's been known for its masterful selection of music adds Kate Bush's"Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)" to its playlist, as the 1985 song's themes and lyrics not only prove central to Max's story, but vitally organic to the actual plot. 

Bush purists will scoff at so many discovering her music for the first time through this, but it's unlikely the long underrated English artist minds a hefty paycheck along with the added bonus of introducing a new generation of fans to her work. And considering Sadie Sink has probably experienced the biggest career boost since last season, the Duffers were wise to showcase Max in a big way, letting the actress carry many of the early episodes after being somewhat sidelined last season. And Sink really delivers, standing out amongst a more crowded cast than usual. 

If there was any doubt just how far the Elm Street influence extends, the presence of Freddy Krueger himself, Robert Englund, only solidifies this. His performance as Victor Creel, a survivor whose family may have been killed by the same supernatural force terrorizing Hawkins decades later, is brief but memorable. His accompanying flashback is part of what provides the literal and figurative gateway to the answers the group's searching for. Nancy, Robin and Steve are in full investigative mode, and if there's any problem with the season it's that it ends up being so dark that the comedic hijinks don't land quite as seamlessly as we're accustomed.

While the revelations and 50's flashback that come from Nancy and Robin's meeting with Creel is creepy and enthralling, their means of the interview is a bit silly in execution. Of course, the same accusation could be thrown at Jonathan's character, who spends the seven episodes pretty much stoned out of his mind with equally dazed pizza delivery buddy Argyle (Eduardo Franco). 

With Nancy and Jonathan in separate states, there's an attempt to gain some mileage from their fractured long distance relationship being on the ropes, but Steve's become such a popular, dependable character that even the writers have given up presenting Jonathan as a viable option for her. The most successful comedic relief comes from Lucas' spunky sister Erica (Priah Ferguson), an impromptu road trip to hacker Suzie's (Gabriella Pizollo) chaotic house and Joyce and Murray's multi-episode spanning journey to retrieve Hopper, which is ripe with all sorts of complications. 

In some ways it's a compliment that humor takes a backseat to what's a far more insidious central story than we're used to, as the very first image we see is the bloody aftermath to a massacre of children at Hawkins Lab that earns one of the more justified Netflix content warnings. There's so much narrative business to deal with that the only episodes that seem long are the ones trying to squeeze some of the lighter stuff in. But "light" is the last word you'd use to describe Eleven's situation, which is the season's most involving plot by a landslide. Mainly because it's everyone's, regardless of whether the other characters know it yet. Living in California with the Byers as Jane Hopper, the loss of her powers combined with cruel, constant bullying exposes a vulnerability in our protagonist we haven't seen since the initial season. 

The Duffers wisely exploit viewers' misplaced confidence that El's grown enough over the past few years that she'd have minimal problems readjusting to life in a new school and interacting with peers. It's not as if she hasn't evolved by leaps and bounds in Hawkins, but through Brown's performance and the writing, we're harshly reminded Eleven will never be "normal." It's not possible because she isn't, and the sudden loss of her powers (as well as her separation from Mike) has led to a sense of hopelessness just as she's needed most. Paul Reiser's returning Sam Owens has a plan to restore her psychokinetic gifts, but only if she's willing to go to some painfully traumatizing places that have been long buried.

Utilizing a specialized isolation tank called "NINA" El can access memories of her time with the other children at Hawkins Laboratory. Unfortunately for her, the mastermind of this experiment is the surprisingly still alive Dr. Martin Brenner (Matthew Modine) aka "Papa." And she'll need to accept, and maybe even embrace or harness, his cruel manipulation for this project to work. Going down the rabbit hole that is Hawkins Lab circa 1979, it's revealed that ostracization and bullying isn't exactly something unfamiliar to her. 

Continuing to believe she's responsible for the deaths of those children and fellow test subjects, El's unnerving trip down memory lane exposes these students as jealous and spiteful, threatened by her abilities while fiercely competing for Brenner's attention and praise. There's a lot of interesting stuff going on here, with Modine afforded the opportunity to add extra layers and dimensions to Brenner that arguably surpasses what he did in the first season, causing us to view the character in a new, more complicated light. 

Whether Brenner can even be partially trusted is another matter altogether, as are his motivations for using these kids as guinea pigs for his immoral experiments. But there's still a threat far worse he can no longer contain and control. These disturbingly hypnotizing flashbacks reveal much about El's history under his care while some impressive de-aging technology is used to depict her younger years. Stepping into her own memories to get answers and possibly reclaim her powers within this dizzying dreamscape, El's helped by an orderly named Peter Ballard (Jamie Campbell Bower), who may provide the clarification she's looking for. 

Volume One's finale ("Chapter Seven: The Massacre at Hawkins Lab") might be the series' finest hour, or hour and a half to be precise. Given how much was jammed into this first volume, there were legitimate doubt surrounding whether the Duffers could pull this all off and have it make sense. But you have to appreciate any twist where the answer was right in front of our faces the entire time, though just out of reach, superficially insignificant enough to go overlooked. 

Bowers' performance as Peter is calm and creepy throughout but intentionally not substantial enough to send up red flags until the final two episodes. And when it does, we're still unsure of his exact intentions and too preoccupied with his relationship to El to consider how he fits into a far larger picture. That's why when Ballard not only reveals himself as "001," but Henry, the disturbed son of Victor Creel, responsible for his family's death and the lab massacre years later, it works. The bread crumbs were all there, even as the pieces didn't completely fit together until the end. El being a pawn in his game to break free from Brenner's control leads to the season's ultimate showdown, as El sends him spiraling into what we now know as the Upside Down, where he becomes Vecna. Origin story complete, with more details sure to follow, as it's possible the writers could have planted other clues far earlier. 

It's a lot to take in, but holds together, tying up some loose ends and explaining some of the more questionable developments in these seven episodes. With El having now faced her past trauma in the  and realizing she's more superhero than monster, it's reasonable to expect her powers will be restored at full force when Mike and company head to Nevada to retrieve her. And they really conjure up some first season vibes when Dustin, Lucas and Erica communicate via Liter-Brite with Steve and company in the Upside Down. 

With Hopper evading the Demogorgon and reuniting with Joyce in Russia, you have to figure he'll be also be reconnecting with El sooner than later. Ironically enough, the bigger mysteries might revolve around Nancy and Steve, considering the former is in Vecna's clutches while the latter's still pretty seriously injured, his fate in doubt. But all roads seem to be leading to a final battle where Vecna gets his rematch with the rehabilitated Eleven.

As far as shockers go, this season features its most noteworthy yet, with multiple story arcs converging in one revelatory moment, whetting our appetites for where the remainder of the show could be going. That our trust in the Duffers' storytelling has been rewarded to such an extent is a big deal considering long game twists aren't something the series has been known to dabble in until now. In the face of seemingly insurmountable expectations, Stranger Things came to play, alleviating all concerns that a long layoff and extended episodes would prevent the series from again matching the lofty standards it's already set. 

Fear Street Part Three: 1666

Director: Leigh Janiak
Starring: Kiana Madeira, Olivia Scott Welch, Ashley Zukerman, Gillian Jacobs, Benjamin Flores Jr., Sadie Sink, Darrell Britt Gibson, Fred Hechinger, Julia Rehwald, Emily Rudd, Ted Sutherland, McCabe Slye, Jordana Spiro, Jordyn DiNatale, Elizabeth Scopel, Ryan Simpkins
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R  

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

If Fear Street Part One cleverly took inspiration from 90's horror movies like Scream and a supernatural side helping of Stranger Thing and the superior Part Two delivered a dead-on tribute to 70's teen slashers like Friday The 13th, what could now become of the trilogy's third and possibly final film? While the preview oddly indicated something along the lines of Back to the Future Part III, the main reference point is folk horror in the vein of Robert Eggers' The Witch, The Wicker Man, or even more plainly, The Crucible. But if the idea of stringing a single narrative through three movies with the same cast in different eras is an intriguing one, the format's payoff is ultimately what matters. Almost everything needs to converge in such a way that audiences get satisfying answers and aren't taken on a manipulative ride.

As 1978 demonstrated, director/co-writer Leigh Janiak is having quite the run proving she's up to the task this storytelling experiment requires. And notwithstanding the creative pitfalls that could trip up an endeavor this inventive, it does come together in the end. Not without some flaws and certain questionable choices in the last act, what's promised mostly comes to pass, with style, suspense and excitement to spare. It might also be the thematically deepest entry, tackling some timely issues through the lens of an entirely different period and setting. 

If this stayed the course throughout, the sky would have been the limit, but there's also that nagging issue of a mythology to wrap up. It does that well, even if the Stranger Things comparisons will justifiably be out in full force again. If those allusions were noticeably present in Part One, they disappeared in the second installment when Janiak picked exactly one thing to do and did it masterfully. Regardless of its inspiration, the middle chapter felt original, like a great horror movie you'd want to rewatch endlessly. 1666 isn't that, but with a strong lead performance and memorable finale, the third Fear Street takes us back to how it all began in order to effectively close things out.

After returning the severed hand to the corpse of accused witch Sarah Fier, Deena (Kiana Madeira) has a vision, transporting her from 1994 to 1666 as she gets a firsthand perspective through the eyes of Sarah, witnessing past events as they're happening. Living in Union with father George (Randy Havens) and brother Henry (Benjamin Flores Jr.) before its eventual division into Sunnyvale and Shadyside, she's embroiled in a secret, forbidden romance with Pastor Miller's daughter Hannah (Olivia Scott Welch). 

The recipient of constant harassment from town drunk, Mad Thomas (McCabe Slye), Sarah finds herself having an encounter with the reclusive "Widow" (Jordana Spiro) deep in the woods, as she and Hannah discover a mysterious book of black magic. The girls return to a town suddenly beseiged by bad luck and death with townsfolk believing witchcraft to be the cause. Targeting them as the perpetrators, the residents begin their hunt, even as Sarah looks for help from trusted confidant Solomon Goode (Ashley Zukerman), the only person who believes in her innocence. With the walls closing in and Sarah set to be hanged, in 1994 Deena must use the new information she's gained through her vision to break the curse, as Ziggy (Gillian Jacobs) comes face-to face with her traumatic past and the Shadyside killers are summoned to make their final stand. 

Having the same actors playing a multiple roles in various timelines can be jarring so it helps when there's solid reasoning behind it. From the start it's easy to have doubts since there isn't much of explanation other than that some members the cast are playing relatives of whomever they were in the previous entries. But in other instances, certain actors are almost extras of sorts, causing confusion in the early minutes as we're trying to find our bearings in the 1666 story. You could say Deena "leaps" into Sarah Fier, experiencing everything as her, with the romance between Sarah and Hannah serving as a mirror image of Deena's rocky relationship with Samantha in 1994, as actress Olivia Scott Welch also pulls double duty in two roles. But once all that's established, Janiak does an admirable job fleshing out Sarah's backstory and dives headfirst into the folk horror aesthetic.

The girls' plight is caused by a growing lie when someone tells someone else, and before long it's spreading through town like wildfire. It's gripping how the film tracks the trajectory of this while making it known that being viewed as "different" is what dooms them. The script does a skillful job of touching on issues of contemporary relevance without preaching since so much of it already feels ingrained into this particular story. As death and destruction reigns down upon Union, Janiak extends her streak of not holding back on the gore and violence (particularly in a disturbing church scene), as Sarah's eventually led down a path of discovery the townsfolk are destined to remain ignorant toward, having convinced themselves she's the source of evil. The reveal of the actual villain's identity isn't exactly a shocker, but doesn't have to be since it makes sense by tightening the last screws of this three-film spanning mythology. 

Kiana Madeira taking on the Sarah Fier role proves to be more than just a gimmick, as she delivers a performance that's considerably more affecting than her work as Deena. There's dramatically heavier lifting in this storyline and she rises to the occasion in suprising ways alongside Olivia Scott Welch as Hannah. While there's more than faint echos of familiarity to their 1994 counterparts, they are entirely different characters, so it's a testament to both that they play them as such, navigating a fairly tricky situation. 

The rest of the cast mainly provides backround support in smaller, less pivotal roles than the previous installments with Sadie Sink, Emily Rudd, Fred Hechinger and Julia Rehwald making sporadic appearances that don't amount to anything of great consequence. It would almost be too convoluted if they did, but you still have to question if they were included if only to keep with a running continuity throughout the trilogy. Ashley Zukerman and Jordana Spiro's respective roles as Solomon Goode and the Widow are more purposeful, directly linking to the events that make up the last third of the film.     

Inevitably, the script circles back to 1994 for its conclusion, as what happened to Sarah Fier and how the curse managed to pass through generations to torture Shadysiders for centuries becomes valuable information for Deena. The final half hour is kind of a thrilling mess with her and the gang trying to lift the curse (and its spell over Samantha) in a battle between good and evil at the Shadyside Mall that recalls the climactic Starcourt Mall showdown in last season's Stranger Things. Despite that, Janiak again doubles down on the violence while still efficiently tying up all the loose ends. And if we were given a music breather with Marco Beltrani's haunting 1666 score taking the place of 70's and 90's hits, some more mid 90's classics make a welcome return at the end, reminding us what might be most remembered about this trilogy is its soundtrack.

Fear Street proves itself capable of sampling different genres and mixing them into a fresh concoction that works better than it ever should have. If 1978 is far and away the strongest of the three entries, the others at least don't pale in comparison, especially now that we can see how everything connects. Still, creating this kind of "expanded universe" can also hurt if more creative energy is spent trying to explain what happened before and set up what's next than focus on the movie in front of us. The second entry proves immune from this by standing alone with a singular vision of exactly what it wanted to be and following through completely. Working within a new format that carried a high risk of creative failure, Janiak deserves a lot of credit for putting her own distinctive stamp on it. She kind of stitches pieces of pop culture and classic slashers together to create this Frankenstein's monster of an R.L. Stine adaptation that still has legs to continue. And based on what we've already seen, it's hard to argue it shouldn't.

Fear Street Part Two: 1978

Director: Leigh Janiak
Starring: Sadie Sink, Emily Rudd, Ryan Simpkins, McCabe Slye, Ted Sutherland, Gillian Jacobs, Jordana Spiro, Kiana Madeira, Benjamin Flores Jr., Olivia Scott Welch, Ashley Zukerman, Chiara Aurelia, Jordyn DiNatale, Sam Brooks, Julia Rehwald, Fred Hechinger
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

An improvement in nearly every way over its previous entry, Fear Street Part Two: 1978 breaks free from the shackles of its trilogy format to stand on its own as a darker, more tightly written and engrossing effort. If the entertaining but creatively mixed 1994 entry could have doubled as a series pilot, this feels more cinematic, going so far as to fill in some of the bigger holes in that first film, making it play better in retrospect. While it's already been established this isn't going to be a series of films startling us with their originality, a lot of thought clearly went into this middle installment, which avoids feels derivative despite patterning itself off a very specific sub-genre. It also proves Leigh Janiak has a bit more up her sleeve as a director than originally suspected, invoking the tone and spirit of an old school teen camp summer slasher in cleverly subversive ways. 

Revolving around three terrific central performances and a classic setting, the movie knows exactly what it's supposed to do and follows through, rarely bogged down by some of the expositional excursions and winking that made its predecessor seem just slightly less than the sum of its parts. In veering the furthest distance yet from the younger-skewing, mainstream-friendly vibe of R.L. Stine's brand, Janiak breaks a few unwritten rules that should satisfy more devoted horror fans. And if it's still up for debate just how effective the central mythos running through the trilogy is, there's no question this sequel enhances it, while also delivering enough urgency to firmly stand on its own, regardless of what comes before or after. 

Picking up where the action left off in 1994, Deena (Kiana Madeira) and Josh Johnson (Bejamin Flores Jr.) have restrained Deena's posessed girlfriend Sam (Olivia Scott Welch) and taken her to the house of C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs) for help. As a survivor of the infamous Camp Nightwing massacre of 1978, she knows a thing or two about the curse of the Fier witch and Shadyside's long history of murders related to it. Angry, depressed and drowning her sorrows in a bottle, she reluctantly agrees to recount the events of that summer as we flash back when Berman sisters Ziggy (Sadie Sink) and Cindy (Emily Rudd) attended Nightwing as camper and counselor, respectively. 

While younger, rebellious sister Ziggy is harrassed and accussed of theft by popular camp bully Sheila (Chiara Aurelia) the prim and preppy Cindy has fully shed any hints of her Shadysider status, even if current boyfriend and fellow counselor Tommy Slater (McCabe Slye) thinks she could stand to loosen up a bit. Co-counselor and ex-best friend Alice (Ryan Simpkins), along with her pothead boyfriend Arnie (Sam Brooks) seem to agree, constantly flaunting their disregard for the rules in Cindy's face. 

When Tommy has an unfortunate run-in with Mary Lane (Jordana Spiro), camp nurse and mother of past Shadyside killer, Ruby Lane (Jordyn DiNatale), an unspeakable evil is released into him as he goes on a muderous rampage, brutally taking out counselors and campers in the dead of night. Forming a bond with couselor and future sheriff Nick Goode (Ted Sutherland), self-described "weirdo" Ziggy becomes even more convinced of the curse while a still skeptical Cindy and troubled Alice must put their personal issues aside to survive the ongoing carnage. 

What boosts this entry tremdously is that it centers almost entirely around a single event. That alone gives it a laserlike focus it's 1994 counterpart lacked, as it frequently waffled between characters and situations to explain the complexities of the Fier witch curse. So after a brief prologue dealing with it, Janiak is freed to make a good old fashioned slasher about an ax-wielding madman terrorizing a 70's summer camp. And since the Friday The 13th franchise became entangled in a decade-long legal battle preventing any forthcoming films, this is the closest we're likely to get one. Of course,it's still Netflix, so it has a much cleaner look and isn't as authentically scuzzy, but the inspiration is present enough that Camp Nightwing may as well double as Crystal Lake. But the big surprise is that if this wasn't marketed as part of a YA trilogy and there were no preconceived judgments about Stine's literary output, this would have undoubtedly receive more praise than it's gotten. 

Drawing heavily from not only Friday The 13th, but Sleepaway Camp and even The Town That Dreaded Sundown, there's a substantial middle stretch where everything that could go right with this  film does. It's easy to imagine Stine grinning from ear-to-ear realizing this is getting away with showing things he'd never be allowed to describe for his younger readers as the adaptation finally gives him some Stephen King cred. If one of Fear Street:1994's better qualities was Janiak's refusal to hold back while replicating the self-referential horror of the 90's, she's takes it up a level here with a more interesting genre period to draw from with the 70's, featuring characters that just seem wilder, meaner, and even hornier, eventually paying for it in graphically unsettling ways. 

Realizing we've reached a point where what's left of the teen slasher has become sanitized and wiped clean of the chaos that made them touchstones for a certain generation, Janiak uses this setting to pay homage. And in capturing the pranks, crushes and goofy comedic moments that accompany them, it becomes just as fun as it is suspenseful. After an effective backstory sets up Tommy's reign of terror,  the possessed counselor starts picking off victims and it becomes kind of shocking how little is off limits. Also helping is the fact that this is actually a functioning camp that younger kids and pre-teens  attend, racheting up concern in viewers that they're in legitimate danger. And they are. 

Stranger Things' Sadie Sink carries the whole picture on her back as the rebellious Ziggy while Emily Rudd equals her every step of the way as uptight Cindy, We're initially given hints as to what caused their sibling rift, but there ends up being a lot more to each of their stories that comes through over the course of this ordeal. Similarly, Ryan Simpkins shares great chemistry with Rudd's Cindy as the punkish Alice, which is a relief considering they share a significant chunk of their screen time together trapped underground in arguably the film's slowest section. But this sequel does take more than a few important steps toward further fleshing out the feud between Shadyside and Sunnyvale, manifesting itself in a "Color Wars" battle that deteriorates into full-blown class warfare.  

Topping the preceding installment's soundtrack of impeccably selected 90's jams should be impossible, but this actually comes closer than it should, with some memorable tracks from Blue Oyster Cult, Kansas, Neil Diamond, Cat Stevens and The Velvet Underground. Music supervisors Lindsay Wolfington and Nora Felder also outdo themselves with their best needle drop yet, with both the David Bowie and Nirvana versions of "The Man Who Sold The World" perfectly bookending the film. The bloody, tension-filled, exhilarating closing sequence commences in an iconic image that feels like it has to be the final shot, but isn't. In a way though, it is, since much of what follows is the epilogue, which has to go back to 1994 to do some narrative housekeeping. There's even a Back to the Future Part III-style preview of Fear Street: 1666 tacked on at the end since all three installments were filmed in quick succession. 

It's here where we realize the drawbacks of a three-film format, as 1978 succeeds most on its own terms as a standalone slasher. I'd even go as far as to say that if you excised the prologue and epilogue and had no idea what preceded this, not much would be lost. As a self-professed Friday The 13th fan, the rewatchability factor on this one is high, but it also accomplishes exactly what the middle film in a trilogy should, further developing the important characters who appear in both timelines and increasing our investment in what happens next. In resurrecting the not so guilty pleasures of teen camp slashers, Janiak reminds us just how well this kind of movie works when helmed by someone who knows and respects the intricacies of the genre. And at a hefty two hours, it still somehow feels just right, suspensefully hitting its stride while laying a strong foundation for its final chapter.

Stranger Things 2

Creators: The Duffer Brothers
Starring: Winona Ryder, David Harbour, Finn Wolfhard, Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Matarazzo, Caleb McLaughlin, Natalia Dyer, Charlie Heaton, Noah Schnapp, Sadie Sink, Joe Keery, Dacre Montgomery, Sean Astin, Paul Reiser
Original Airdate: 2017

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The verdict is in: The Duffer Brothers clearly know what they're doing and there are strong indications they have a long-term plan in place that doesn't involve making things up as they go along. While this seems to be pointing out the obvious, it was far from a guarantee they'd be capable of delivering a sophomore season as strong as the first. In fact, it was extremely doubtful.  But wherever you land on Stranger Things 2, everyone could agree that the only major factor missing this time around is the shock and awe accompanying a new series without expectations. The thrill of discovery surrounding a project that was shopped around to every studio before Netflix took a calculated risk that paid off hugely. These guys had years to hone that first season so it was just right, and couldn't have anticipated they'd be writing any beyond that. Now, the game's changed. It became a worldwide sensation and the kids are superstars. The real challenge begins.

Stranger Things 2 Title Card

The test is to now somehow write and shoot a worthy follow-up within a year's time or face the wrath of extremely fickle binge-watchers more than happy to move on to the next big thing. And with the expectation there will be a few more seasons, they can't burn through the story too fast, as the child actors are aging and maturing on screen at an increasingly rapid rate. But don't go too slowly either and risk falling into the trap of The X-Files or Lost because we want answers, dammit. The great thing about this series is that it actually gives us those, and quickly, sometimes within the confines of a single episode before moving on to what's next. That's the benefit of a single digit episode order. It moves quickly enough to never be bored and isn't around long enough to overstay its welcome.

So, yes, second seasons can be really tough. And it's important to point out just how creatively trying they can be in order to truly appreciate what's done here. Yes, they've essentially replicated the same formula, but isn't that what we wanted?  By expanding the scope of the universe we were blown away by last year, they raise the stakes, further developing characters we grew attached to while even incorporating purposeful, intriguing new ones into the fold.

In its own way, this follow-up is as much of success as could be hoped for, and a good cause for relief and excitement that this wasn't the one-trick pony some skeptics had assumed. That for all its 80's influences and Spielbergian touches, it isn't just some trip down nostalgia lane. While opinions will vary as to how well it stacks up against its preceding chapters as it heads toward the finish line, it's still as tight and meticulously plotted as anything else out there. Logically continuing what preceded it while whetting your appetite for more, it's a real stretch to find any source of disappointment in the thrilling nine episodes of a series that quite literally turned the sci-fi genre upside down last year.

A traumatized Will returns to school

It's almost one year after Will Byer's (Noah Schnapp) disappearance into the Upside Down, and despite returning home to his mother Joyce (Winona Wyder) and older brother Jonathan (Charlie Heaton), he's still having problems coping, plagued with continuous nightmares and visions of his traumatic experience. It's also been that long since Mike (Finn Wolfhard), Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) and Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) have seen Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) whose whereabouts are still unknown after using her psychokinetic powers to defeat the Demogorgon.

As the lovesick Mike mourns El's absence, the boys have turned their attention to the new girl in town, a red-haired, skateboarding, arcade champ named Max (Sadie Sink), who's moved to Indiana from California with her sociopathic step-brother Billy (Dacre Montgomery).  He also steps on the turf of Hawkins High School's reigning alpha male and returning hero, Steve Harrington (Joe Keery), whose relationship with Mike's sister Nancy (Natalia Dyer) is again on shaky ground as she becomes obsessed with exposing Hawkins Laboratories' role in Barb's death, enlisting Jonathan's help.

Gruff, grumpy Hawkins Police Chief Jim Hopper (David Harbour) is also attempting to move on, investigating a mysterious rash of contaminated pumpkin patches that may or may not be connected to the new tenant at Hawkins Labs, Dr. Sam Owens (Paul Reiser) a Department of Energy executive who's also taken an interest in Will's condition. But Hopper's continued concern for Joyce and Will is somewhat infringed upon by Joyce's new boyfriend, the dorky Bob Newby (Sean Astin), a former classmate who now runs the local RadioShack.

Dusty, Joyce and Max express concern for Will

All these characters will be jolted out of their relative complacency when a dreaded threat returns to Hawkins, more dangerous than ever. The question is whether they'll be able to fight it this time without El's help. Or if she'll even be able to return to reunite with her friends, and possibly get a chance at trying to live a somewhat normal childhood, free from government experimentation and interference.

This season is all about tandems, with our already well-established favorites and some newcomers pulled in different directions, often opposite characters you wouldn't expect. El and Hopper. Steve and Dustin. Joyce and Bob. Nancy and Jonathan. Max and Lucas. Max and Dustin. Max and Lucas and Dustin. Dustin and a slimy pet Pollywog. Once again, after being absent for most of the first season due to his abduction into the Upside Down, Will is the odd-man out, as his friends have attempted to resume their lives while realizing something is still very, very wrong with him. Whether this is entirely psychological (in the form of some kind of PTSD) or physical or something else, it forms much of the groundwork for these nine chapters.

We do find out what Eleven has been up to since she single-handedly saved Hawkins and Hopper was leaving Eggos in the woods. While she spends nearly the entirety of this season cut off from the whole crew, it isn't without a purpose, as the El/Hopper story is the most successful of many overlapping plots. The thrilling results come every time David Harbour and Millie Bobby Brown share the screen together in a makeshift father/daughter relationship that complicatedly manages to be both adversarial and loving at the same time.

Eleven "channels" Poltergeist in Hopper's cabin

While Hopper's holding El in seclusion for her own safety and and can't comprehend how she could even consider risking her life to break his "three rule" code of the cabin, his hubris allows him to forget who he's dealing with here: A human lab experiment who's been poked, prodded and held captive for much of her life until she finally found real friends and a chance at a normal existence. So while the temporary living arrangement is for her own safety, it can't help but feel to her like another round of mandatory detainment. Hopper's no Dr. Brenner and has her best interests in mind, but to El he may as well be in so far as his standing in the way of her freedom.

What's even more impressive and expressive about Brown's performance this time around is how she starts to become this angry adolescent, and El isn't exactly someone you want to make angry, regardless of her age or size. One of the season's best scenes involve her and Hopper arguing and the viewer genuinely fearing for this tough, no-nonsense sheriff's life as she dangerously hurls objects at him with her mind, as the show completely reimagines the stakes of a father disciplining a child. The subtext here, of course, is that she's filling void left by the passing of Hopper's own daughter, infusing the encounter with twice the emotion.  El discovering how and when to use these "gifts" is at the crux of her journey toward understanding her true self: Jane Ives.

Locating her comatose birth mother and unraveling the mystery of her time spent at the lab leads to the polarizing self-contained episode, "The Lost Sister," where Eleven tracks down childhood labmate, Eight, A.K.A. Kali (Linnea Berthelsen) and discovers she's been using her powers more nefariously, leading a NYC street gang in crime sprees. While the episode's objective is pretty clear in guiding El to discover her true purpose and return to help her friends, it's a narrative and stylistic detour for a show that hasn't taken one up to this point. Sure, it was a risk, but not as enormous of one as some have been claiming and occasionally even bemoaning. While you could question whether this deserved a bottle chapter and contend it vaguely resembled a lost Heroes episode, it hardly curbed any of the momentum of the main storyline back in Hawkins.

"Chapter Seven: The Lost Sister"

If anything, it's a testament to how good the other episodes are that viewers' tolerance for anything else was so low. And it's not like this is just "anything else" either. El's arguably the series' most valuable character so donating a full episode to her personal arc and leaving Hawkins behind for 40 minutes is hardly a capital offense.
The episode works largely because of the turns from Brown and Berthelsen, whose Eight will almost surely return down the road. This effectively plants the seeds for that eventual story but you have to wonder that if the reaction to this one episode was so inexplicably harsh, how game the Duffers are going to be to take what will need to be even bigger risks if the show continues for multiple seasons. Or more importantly, whether this affected how much rope Netflix will give them to do it.

Of that action back in Hawkins, there's so little to complain about that we're basically just checking off boxes in terms of the varying degrees to which everything clicked. But what impressed most was how creatively the four new characters were weaved into the series. Seamlessly, purposefully, and without distraction, they each added important components in driving the story forward, but special mention should be made of new girl Max and the incomparable Bob Newby, as both Sadie Sink and Sean Astin respectively knock their roles out the park.

As the closed-off tomboy crush of both Lucas and Dusty, Max essentially becomes El's stand-in for the season, much to Mike's disdain. It's a role that could have easily been thankless, with attempts at adding her to the group possibly drawing as much scorn and skepticism from viewers as it does Mike. But Sink's a natural, masking "MadMax'"s recent history of verbal and possibly physical abuse at the hands of stepbrother Billy with a tough, seemingly impenetrable exterior the boys need to break down. Once they do, it's fun to watch Lucas and Dusty battle for the attention of the latest female recruit to the gang without a number to her name.

Sean Astin as Bob Newby

We're not sure what to make of Joyce's new boyfriend Bob, who seems to be trying so ridiculously hard to win the affections of Will and Jonathan that we're sure he has to be up to something. No one could possibly be this transparent, and if the rumors are true that the Duffers did initially conceive him to be manipulating them before Sean Astin's performance convinced them to change course, I'd believe it.  As Bob, Astin gives this perfectly calibrated, open-hearted turn as a type of honest, normal character we don't see enough of on screen anymore. He's a literal "Mr. Nice Guy" who does what he says and says what he does, frequently going out on a limb to help others without expecting anything in return.

The enthusiasm and sincerity Astin brings to the role and how it so thoroughly subverts our expectations of what we assume the character will do is possibly the season's greatest accomplishment. Whether dispensing incorrect but well-intentioned advice to Will or selflessly making a fool of himself to make others smile, the RadioShack manager is this year's Barb, but even better, as Astin seems to accomplish all of it by seemingly just being himself.

While casting nostalgic stars like Ryder, Modine, Reiser and Goonies alum Astin in an 80's set sci-fi series could have reeked of the worst kind of satiric self-awareness, his work here proves why it doesn't. The writing and performances deliver the goods, with the actors' histories serving as merely the cherry on top, adding a clever meta-subtext to what they do. And it's the only middle-aged Winona Ryder role that's come close to recapturing her trademark weirdness and unpredictability she displayed early on in in films like Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands. If we know one thing about her, it's that the odder the material gets, the better she is.

Steve and Dusty team up

By reaching for accuracy and believability in depictions of these characters and the period, we buy into the more fantastical, unbelievable stuff without hesitation. That's particularly true when it comes to the kids, who curse and antagonize each other in a manner very unlike what we see in much of today's overly sanitized, too sweetly positive portrayals of kids in film and television. If it's true the latter approach merely a reflection of a modern era where participation trophies are mandatory, then it's only fair the Duffers get credit for completely ignoring it, writing entirely through the prism and time period in which their story takes place, as well as the pop culture surrounding it.

The kids' sharp-witted, hilarious argument concerning who should be Winston when they dress up as Ghostbusters for Halloween represents the series at its best in nailing those small details. Or even just the character of Billy, who comes across more as a full-blown psychopath than your typical schoolyard bully, until the realization dawns on us that this is exactly what constituted a bully back then. His inexplicable hatred toward Lucas has us wondering whether he's also a racist, but by letting that possibility sit there as his actions speak for itself is more frightening than any outright acknowledgment would be. In a way, we don't want to know.

Whatever the root of Billy's anger (and we're given many indications), a lot of it is misdirected at Steve, whose redemption arc at the end of last season was one of the series' more surprising rewards. This season finds him thrown into kind of a big brother role that not only suits the character well, but gives us some priceless scenes of him mentoring Dustin as only Steve can. It's small treasures like that and even Nancy and Jonathan's trip to see wacky conspiracy theorist Murray Bauman (Brett Gelman), who offers up some shockingly sound and smart advice on how to properly expose the danger in Hawkins.

Eleven and Mike reunite at the Snow Ball

In the season finale, the Duffers do something I'm not sure many other showrunners would even bother delegating the time for. After the action's essentially been resolved and the kids can go back to life as usual (or as "usual" as it gets in Hawkins) much of that episode is spent with these characters processing the aftermath and their connections with one another. There's no doubt many of them have evolved a great deal and we're given these little moments toward the end that remind us for all the Spielberg and Stephen King comparisons the series justifiably receives, it just as heavily influenced by John Hughes movies, if not more so.

Getting these nuances right wouldn't mean as much if the big stuff didn't also work just as well the second time around, like new shades of Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein's 80's electronic score and the use of practical effects in conjunction with CGI in an effort to stay true to the period. Whatever they've done, it's worked again, as everything looks and sounds great. They basically took what they did in the first season and amped it up, in some ways making it bigger and better visually without losing so much of the character development that initially hooked viewers onto the show. And too think at one point we doubted they could even have a second season, much less one that nearly equals its first.

Now, the new problem will be producing more at a rate of quality that can sustain three or four additional seasons of story. What will this even look like when the kids get older?  Could we get a time jump where we see them as adults? Is the series' style and story so entrenched in the 1980's that it couldn't possibly leave that time period and survive? Every season can't end with El defeating the Demogorgon, can it? These are questions that will likely necessitate a lot of pondering in Netflix offices, and I'm not sure those even scratch the surface in terms of mapping out a future for this show. The good news is that these nine episodes bring with it considerably more hope that they can.