Trivial Pursuits: 'Stranger Things' celebrates nostalgia, good storytelling

The opening credits look like they were lifted from the cover of a Stephen King novel, the music sounds like a super-synthesized mash-up of John Carpenter movies and video arcade games, and the cast includes Winona Ryder, Paul Reiser and Sean Astin.

From mullets to Men’s Only jackets, Reagan yard signs to rocking out to The Police, Stranger Things nails the 1980s like no other modern day TV show or movie since, but take heart; if recalling the “me” decade makes you cringe, there’s plenty to adore about this wildly popular Netflix gem.       

If this were the 1980s, video store clerks would be stumped as to which section to shelve Stranger Things, and it’s perhaps a testament to the imagination and ambition of creators Matt and Ross Duffer that  the show does not fit neatly into just one genre, or even a few. Certainly there are moments in the series – the second season of which was released days before Halloween – that have you clinging to the closest couch cushion (or, if you’re like me, wailing, “Nooo!” at the  screen). There are moments that are incredibly touching and, well, sweet. The characters and dialogue can be uproarious, and often are. It’s also a creature feature of sorts with some H.P. Lovecraft-like parallel universe stuff going on.  But at its core Stranger Things is a coming-of-age story about four friends so tight and so loveably nerdy that they show up at middle school on Halloween as the Ghostbusters, a move they’d planned months in advance – and they’re the only kids in costume. 

Mike, Will, Dustin and Lucas live in Hawkins, Ind. They play D&D in Mike’s basement, communicate via giant walkie-talkies with crazy impressive reception and bike everywhere, without having to check in too closely with loving but not-terribly-concerned parents. (You remember). 

Then enters a girl, but not just any girl. Eleven, as she’s known by the number tattooed on the inside of her arm, looks like she stumbled out of a mental ward, and she acts like it. In fact, this waiflike girl with a shaved head and zero real-world knowledge has just escaped from an evil, Big Brother-type government lab that secretly steals kids, strips them of their identities and experiments on them. 

Eleven is psychokinetic and has a way of reaching alternate dimensions and dealing with some pretty terrifying monsters called demogorgons who’ve snatched Will and dragged him to an alternate reality called the Upside Down.

Winona Ryder gives the best performance of her life as Will’s mom, Joyce Byers, in an ensemble cast you love from the get-go, that rare breed of well-written characters that are so specific and so grounded in familiarity that you never for a moment doubt the story that’s unfolding. Stranger Things is storytelling at its finest. 

In trying to define the show, many have likened it to 80s flicks: Stand By Me meets Alien meets The Goonies, for instance. And while the show is a bit of all of those things, summing it up in such a way sends a false message: You’ve seen this before. In reality, this show transcends any comparison, for television has never known anything quite like it.  

It’s haunting, it’s fun, it’s satisfying, and above all, Stranger Things  grabs you, pulls you in, and stays with you a long, long time after the end credits have rolled.