# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
50 Facts You Didn't Know About Stranger Things

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Stranger Things is definitely one of the best new shows around! Leave a comment telling me what show/movie you'd like me to do next! Please leave a like if you enjoyed this video, it really helps me out :)

# data[].attributes.body
Stranger Things is such a good watch. I binged watched it all.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
*Warning: This story contains plot points and spoilers regarding the first season of Netflix's *Stranger Things.

Whether you're an '80s baby, a '90s nut, or an aughts oddball, you've likely spent the last couple of weeks chewing over Stranger Things, the Winona Ryder-led Netflix series that follows the disappearance of a young boy in small-town Indiana in 1983, and leads to the discovery of a telekinetic tween, a shadowy conspiracy, and a blood-crazed monster. Though Netflix doesn't release ratings numbers, it's hard to deny that Stranger Things is one of the biggest hits of the summer, as evidenced by the fact that no one will stop talking about it. A big part of the show's appeal, of course, is the way it invokes, homages, and sometimes overtly cops from all sorts of Reagan-era pop culture: Even *Stranger'*s title font feels like it jumped off a dog-eared Stephen King paperback. Its opening credits and score has a serious John Carpenter feel (and a bit of a V vibe, as well). And throughout the show, we're inundated to references to the decade's sci-fi conspiracy flicks ( Firestarter, Scanners), adolescent-adventure tales ( It, The Goonies), and horror-flicks ( Evil Dead, Poltergeist).

The strangest thing about Stranger Things, though, might be its final episode, in which the monster is finally killed by Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown), the on-the-run ex-lab-rat who seemingly dies during her act of self-sacrifice. Thanks to Eleven-and her pals Mike (Finn Wolfhard), Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), and Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin)-the abducted Will Byers (Noah Schnapp) returns home safely ... only to later cough up a nasty-looking worm-thing that indicates that a Stranger Things sequel might be in the offing (as of this writing, Netflix still hasn't officially commissioned a second season). The finale, with its surprising turns and revelations, raised all sorts of questions: Is Eleven alive? Is the monster really dead? And, most importantly: Just where the hell is Stranger Things going, and how satisfying has the journey been so far? We don't have all the answers, but because this is the Internet, we do have lots of opinions and speculation. Read on to find out what senior editor Peter Rubin and senior writer Brian Raftery think is going on with Stranger Things.

Brian Raftery: First off, Peter, sorry I'm so late with this. I'd originally tried writing to you via a Speak N' Spell I'd hooked up to a TRS-80, a process that took forever, and that yielded little more than a few dot matrix-printed Foreigner lyrics. But maybe the delay was for the best: It's been two weeks since *Stranger Things *premiered, and now that we've now both had a chance to digest this eight-part sci-fi mystery-machine, we can string up some Christmas lights on the walls and start digging into the show's finale. It's an episode that crystallized everything I dug about Stranger Things -and everything that bugged me, as well.

First, the good stuff: The kids! By far, the most satisfying aspect of Stranger Things is how it captures the latchkey slackness of '80s childhood. Kids were more free-range back then, with barely a helicopter-parent to be found, and all those uncluttered, digital-distraction-free afternoons and evenings opened the world up to all sorts of adventures, both real and imagined. The young actors on this show-all of them great-perfectly embody that spazzy, restless spirit of the era. But like everybody else on Stranger Things, the kids are forced to grow up (and wise up) pretty fast, and in "Chapter Eight: The Upside Down," their already-tested relationships are deepened even further: Mike asks Eleven to the dance. Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve put aside their squabbles and team up to trap the monster. And, of course, Eleven dissolves (and maybe dies?) while helping out her new friends, and all to save a boy she doesn't even know.

So deep are the young bonds on the show that, by the time the kids rush Will's hospital bedroom at the end of episode eight, their delight is genuine-and I will admit, maybe just a smidge weep-inducing. That's because the show, at its heart, has always been about the deep, impossible-to-recapture kinship that you can find at that age. "I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12," is the great closing line of Stand By Me, a movie that Stranger Things creators the Duffer Brothers no doubt had in mind while writing the show.

But whenever the action shifted away from the younger characters, "The Upside Down" began to collapse on itself, much like the monster's flowery mandibles. But before I dig into what I didn't love, I'm curious: What did you think of that open-ended closing scene? Were you happy to learn that stranger things (and Stranger Things) might still be happening?

Peter Rubin: Brian, I'll see your TRS-80 and raise you a VIC-20-though at least yours was the star of a fresh-to-death Radio Shack giveaway that was one of the first comic books I ever owned. I, like you, am this show's Bullesye Audience Member. (Also, I just want an excuse to yell "BAM!" the way Emeril Lagasse did at you in that elevator.) The moment the series began, I got some serious E.T. vibes, and not just because Mike's little sister was dressed exactly like Gertie. And, as you point out, those vibes not only continued, but broadened. Will was basically *E.T.'*s Elliott (or was he Goonies' Mikey?); his mom Jocelyn re-styled her Silkwood hair with a Close Encounters freakout. I think it was Episode 4 when I made up my mind that I was tired of the pastiche ... only to get sucked back in by the exact same thing. And at the end of it, while I knew deep down the show wasn't much more than a trifle -equal layers of whipped cream, ground beef, and "37 Things Only '80s Kids Will Understand" listicles-I was still ready to go back to Hawkins, if only to know why Chief Hopper (played with gruff-and-tumble charm by David Harbour) was leaving Eggos in a box in the woods.

And sure, I think that given the many questions raised by the finale-especially that weird cliffhangery closing scene that was basically Michael Jackson's cat's-eye smile at the end of the "Thriller" video-the Duffer Bros. are playing a little fast-and- Lost with their "don't worry, we know the answers!" schtick. I mean, bully for your supposed 30-page dossier on the monster, but I'd rather not get all the answers. (Speaking of the DBs, I can't be the only one who imagined two dudes with aviator sunglasses and bushy '80s porn 'staches when they first heard how the show's creators are billed, can I?)

But also, I really don't think the kids are the best parts of the show. (Except Dustin. Dustin is the Platonic ideal of the foulmouthed '80s-movie kid archetype.) For instance, Hop's arc in particular is fascinating to me: Where exactly was he a "big city cop"? Where was he going when he got in that car in the final episode? Why does he kinda remind me of Diedrich Bader in Office Space? When will he adopt the clearly parentless Dustin for sitcom purposes? My real question, though, is where we go from here. Is this best as a fun-and-done, or do we need to go back to shady Hawkins? Or, as I personally hope, could this be an anthology in the style of Haunted Indiana, the gloriously low-budget public-access show that influenced me as much as any of these movies did?

Raftery: I think we all have our own little version of Haunted Indiana-some long-forgotten '80s relic that we loved as a kid, and had totally forgotten about until Stranger Things came around (for me, it was , a 1983 Nickelodeon movie that scared the heck out of me). But despite my personal fondness for the days of Atari and AT-ATs, I was a bit more impatient with the show's decade-centric pastiche approach than you were. The spot-the-reference game was fun for a while, but at a certain point, the cascade of homages and nods felt a bit like pandering (fandering?) to an audience whose members are as nostalgic for their pop-culture glory days as the boomers were in the Reagan years. By the time we got to episode eight, and Hopper was standing over an alien egg that looked like it could have been yanked from James Cameron's pool cabana-the one in Monaco, not the one in Madrid or Malibu-I was starting to think Game over, man. Thankfully, my affection for the kids, and my love of mid-speed bicycle chases, pulled me back.

As far as a second season goes, the show certainly left us with a bunch of beguiling questions-some of them satisfying cliffhangers, some of them too-astray loose ends. Is Eleven's number really up? (I doubt it.) Was Matthew Modine's dapper mastermind Dr. Brenner devoured by the monster, or did he and his wondrous hair escape? And what's up with Hopper? He sold out Eleven's location in order to get to the Upside Down, and appeared to have been picked up by some of Modine's minions after Will returned. Is he in cahoots (caHopps?) with the bad guys?

Ultimately, I'm torn as to whether I'd like to see these questions answered, or whether it'd be better if Stranger Things went the "Pine Barrens" route, forever leaving us to wonder who might be out in the woods-and if they'll ever come back. Maybe we'd all be better if this was a one-and-doner: Trying to replicate the cozy vibes of Stranger Things' first season seems like a tough task, especially since the show has already exhausted pretty much every early-'80s movie already (with the the exception of The Apple, of course). I'd much prefer an anthology-style show, perhaps one that draws from a different vein of '80s horror or sci-fi each season. I'm sure the Duffers would have a lot of fun conjuring up their take on, say, Gremlins, or maybe even Hobgoblins!

One last question for you: What did you make of that beastie that crawled out of Will's mouth, and the Upside Downness that followed? Was it actually Will who came back, or an impostor? Or did he simply become a host for a new critter? I'm going to go with the theory-one that's completely easy to contradict-that the real Will is still somewhere in the Upside Down, and that this is some sort of body-snatcher version who's been tasked with bringing the two worlds together. After all, we've had fake Wills before, and I was struck by how suspiciously quickly he'd re-acclimated to his home life (and by how casual he was about the whole puke-thingee he was). Is this a good theory? Nope! But I sure do like body-snatcher movies, and if there is a past-plundering season two of this show, I wouldn't mind a little impostor-roar now and then.

Rubin: Puke-worm? That was clearly a lung-lamprey, and you know it. (The '80s judges would also accept "throbbin' leech.") I like your Boychurian Candidate theory a lot, except for the fact that Will freaked right the hell on out when his bathroom went Downside Up. The timing points to Will being a freshly colonized specimen-the Siege of Castle Byers happened at the very end of Episode 7, and Barb and the Hawkins Lab redshirt are also in the monster's kill-lair-though it's a fair guess that the whole pinioned-meatsack-waiting-to-be-feasted-upon thing might have some deleterious effects on one's innards.

You're absolutely right about the many, many unresolved threads. Was Jonathan's replacement camera a gift from Nancy Wheeler, or from contrite prep-jock Steve? Why did the tears between dimensions always heal-except for the one in Hawkins Lab? What did Carol see in Tommy H., anyway? Why was Troy's mom so ready to believe that telekinesis broke her son's arm? Why did I never notice Barb when she sat behind me in algebra class? Unlike Steve's sweater, the questions far outnumber the antlers.

And the more I think about it, the more I'd love this to go the anthology route. Let's leave the Upside Down alone, and instead open up a new mystery-maybe one with a little less MK Ultra. Ghoulies, Re-Animator, and a decade's worth of slasher flicks are all ripe for the picking. UFOs? Golden Child-style arcana exploration? A non-Simpsons investigation of the "cursed videogame" urban legend? Hell, urban legends in general! This could be a a glorious long-arc mashup of Explorers, Kolchak: The Night Stalker, and *The X-Files-*and I have a feeling you'd be just as glued to the screen as I would.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
OK, Let's Talk About That Stranger Things Season Finale

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Warning: This story contains plot points and spoilers regarding the first season of Netflix's *Stranger Things. Whether you're an '80s baby, a '90s nut, or an aughts oddball, you've likely spent the last couple of weeks chewing over Stranger Things, the Winona Ryder-led Netflix series that follows the disappearance of a young boy in small-town Indiana in 1983, and leads to the discovery of a telekinetic tween, a shadowy conspiracy, and a blood-crazed monster.

# data[].attributes.headline
People literally cant  for the next season... neither can I

# data[].attributes.subject
People literally cant  for the next season... neither can I

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Stranger Things Season 2 Clears Up Eleven-Hair Casting Call

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
'Stranger Things' Season 2 may have cast for women willing to cut their hair, but don't expect the reference means anything for Eleven's predecessors.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
With " Stranger Things" a bonafide, nostalgia-riddled hit for Netflix, and series creators Matt and Ross Duffer eager to tie up the "dangling threads" left at the end of season one as the streaming giant mulls a renewal, we're bound to see more of the "Stranger Things" cast. Variety has compiled an algorithm to determine which character you're most like. Are you too powerful for your own good like Eleven, the voice of reason among your friends like Dustin, or a nervous wreck like Joyce. Find out:

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
QUIZ: Which 'Stranger Things' Character Are You?

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
With " Stranger Things" a bonafide, nostalgia-riddled hit for Netflix, and series creators Matt and Ross Duffer eager to tie up the "dangling threads" left at the end of season one as the streaming giant mulls a renewal, we're bound to see more of the "Stranger Things" cast.

# data[].attributes.headline
Get to know the characters a little more.

# data[].attributes.subject
Get to know the characters a little more.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Stranger Things / Characters - TV Tropes

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Due to the ever-growing list of the characters in Stranger Things, the character sheet has been split between the main ensemble and the supporting cast. Beware of spoilers. The Main CastClick to Expand The Party (Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, ...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Created by Matt Duffer, Ross Duffer. With Millie Bobby Brown, Finn Wolfhard, Winona Ryder, David Harbour. When a young boy disappears, his mother, a police chief, and his friends, must confront terrifying forces in order to get him back.

# data[].attributes.headline
I didnt know a show can be a feminist show.

# data[].attributes.subject
I didnt know a show can be a feminist show.

# data[].attributes.body
Stranger Things is a Sci-Fi

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
The Netflix show Stranger Things is many things: weird, creepy, a retro throwback to 1980s children's movies like The Goonies and Stand By Me, a way to convince young women they'd look badass with shaved heads. (NB: You probably won't.)

However, one thing Stranger Thingsis not is particularly feminist, even though various media outlets have it as such.

Although the show has been lauded for its portrayal of strong female characters, from Winona Ryder's grieving mom Joyce Byers to de facto gay icon Barb, Stranger Things is actually fairly regressive in terms of its depiction of women.

Considering that Stranger Things is set in 1983 - the era of the "" anti-drug campaign, Reagonomics and when people truly didn't think ALF's nose looked like a dick - it makes sense that the show would harbor somewhat conservative views of women. Here are just a few reasons why the Netflix show has more in common with the politically conservative decade that inspired it than we might think.

Warning: spoilers abound.

1) Nancy's love triangle.

Stranger Things has been for its treatment of the love triangle between good girl Nancy (Natalia Dyer), creepy aspiring photographer Jonathan Byers (Charlie Heaton) and popular douchebag/professional Jean-Ralphio lookalike Steve Harrington (Joe Keery).

Although Nancy starts out dating (and losing her virginity to) Steve, over the course of the series a budding relationship between Nancy and Jonathan evolves. This is despite the fact that, at one point, Jonathan took photos of Nancy naked without her knowledge, a federal crime in most states that the show appears to view as a starry-eyed youthful indiscretion. While there's clearly some mutual attraction between the two, by the end of the series Nancy opts for the more popular and conventionally handsome Steve.

In an with Variety, show co-creator Matt Duffer said the decision to reunite Nancy and Steve was intentional: "It felt almost more real to us that she would wind up back with Steve, this heartthrob who she's had a crush on for a long time. It's surprising, but it felt more honest," he said. However, that Duffer doesn't explain is why Nancy's character arc needed to revolve around a love triangle to begin with.

Nancy Wheeler is not a weak character: She's kind to Jonathan when her friends bully him, surprisingly perceptive when she calls out the hypocrisy of her parents' marriage and pretty damn good at shooting a gun. There's no reason for who she does, or doesn't, end up with to be the defining feature of her character. Yet by teasing the "will they or won't they?" aspect of her relationship with Jonathan throughout the series, only to have her end up with an even shittier dude, that's exactly what Stranger Things does.

2) The slut-shaming of Carol and Tommy.

Ah, Carol and Tommy. Let's talk about Carol and Tommy for a second. Here's what we know about Carol and Tommy:

First, they've been sexing on one another since middle school, as Barb disdainfully says. Second, they like to partake in some occasional light slut-shaming, as their bullying of Nancy proves. And third, Tommy looks a little bit like a more well-fed Eddie Redmayne, which is to say he looks like a carrot bobbing in a glass of milk. And that's about it.

Considering how Nancy is almost immediately punished and slut-shamed for losing her virginity, the fact that the other two sexually active teenage characters are such assholes says an awful lot about how the show's creators feel about teenage premarital sex. Thanks, Stranger Things: teens who have sex are either sluts, or popular assholes. Got it.

3) The over-reliance on the tired "grieving mom" trope.

Joyce Byers, girl, I get why you so sad. I do. You're poor. Your ex-husband is a prick. Your older son is a weirdo. And your youngest son was abducted by a giant vagina-faced stick monster, and you can only communicate with him via Walmart Christmas lights and a janky DIY Ouija board. That's not good! Your life ain't great.

That said, literally 95% of the scenes you appear in consist of you chain-smoking and fluttering your hands while screaming "I just want my son back." Bitch, we know you want your goddamn son back. It's basically the defining trait of your character, well, that and your apparent allergy to under-eye concealer. Considering that you're considered one of the strongest female characters on the show, your lack of character development is somewhat problematic.

Joyce, do us a favor: Get a massage. Take a day off. Buy a Deepak Chopra book, and maybe a vibrator while you're at it, and learn a little bit more about who Joyce Byers really is. Because I don't think you know, Joyce. I don't think you know.

4) Eleven can kill the hell out of people...but she cares more about looking pretty for the boys instead.

Child actor Millie Brown has been applauded for her portrayal of the telekinetic child Eleven, and rightfully so: With her predilection for hoarding Eggo waffles, flipping vans, breaking people's GODDAMN NECKS WITH HER MIND and making schoolyard bullies piss in their pants, she's easily the most badass character of the series.

And yet, even Eleven has an Achilles heel: Despite her ability to save idiot 11-year-olds from falling off cliffs and her power to, once again, BREAK PEOPLE'S GODDAMN NECKS WITH HER GODDAMN MIND, all Eleven really wants to do is put on a powderpuff pink crinoline dress and look purdy for Mike.

Throughout the series, Eleven has an odd obsession with being "pretty." Part of this can be attributed to the fact that she's been living in a laboratory for years, thereby skipping the part of female adolescence that entails practicing kissing on your pillow and unwittingly having your first orgasm at horseback riding camp. But still! Considering she's on the run from the creepy Dr. Brenner, and considering, once again, that she has the power to BREAK PEOPLE'S GODDAMN NECKS WITH HER GODDAMN MIND, you'd think that her first priority wouldn't necessarily be donning a third-rateweave that would've given any contestant on RuPaul's Drag Race a heart attack. Just look at that thing. Even Jinkx Monsoon wouldn't be caught dead with that on her head.

5) Barb's death.

For whatever reason, the zaftig, freckled Barb (played by Shannon Purser) has emerged as one of the most memorable characters of the show, despite the fact that her screen time is limited to slut-shaming the popular kids and being bad at shotgunning a beer at Steve's house. Also, dying: Barb is dragged down to the Upside Down and slaughtered by the monster during the show's second episode, making her Stranger Things' first official casualty.

While the Duffer brothers themselves have expressed their remorse over having to kill off Barb in an interview with Variety,it makes sense why the character had to die. Aside from being a total bummer, the show needed to kill off one other cast member to prove just how dangerous the monster from the Upside Down really is. There's just one problem with Barb's death, though: Nobody really seems to give a fuck about her. Like, at all.

While the town remains consumed with chasing down Will Byers' murderer, no one, least of all Barb's mom, who places one concerned phone call to Nancy before being like "lol sayonara to that bitch anyway, Imma book a trip to Barbados and get my groove back like Stella," seems to care an iota for her well-being.

Even when it becomes apparent that the monster has killed Barb, when Eleven locates her body in the Upside Down, no one seems to care that much, with the possible exception of Nancy, who seems to be suffering from a minor form of post-traumatic stress disorder, but who cares now that cute lil' Will Byers is back!

The show's utterly flippant treatment of Barb and her death is a reflection of how little it seems to care about its female characters in general. In Hawkins, Indiana, women are of little value: They're either ignored, as Joyce is when she says the dead body at the morgue doesn't belong to that of her son, which is kind of a big deal in the dead-body-identification industry, slut-shamed, as Nancy is by the dreaded Carol and Tommy, or completely erased altogether.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
5 reasons why 'Stranger Things' isn't the feminist show of our dreams

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
The Netflix show Stranger Things is many things: weird, creepy, a retro throwback to 1980s children's movies like The Goonies and Stand By Me, a way to convince young women they'd look badass with shaved heads. (NB: You probably won't.) However, one thing Stranger Things is not is particularly feminist, even though various media outlets have it as such.

# data[].attributes.body
Joyce and Nancy are going through a lot. Most of the scenes with Nancy requires her to fancy someone.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
In the last month, Netflix's Stranger Things, has become the locus of nearly unanimous praise, sparking a resurgent conversation about current art's ongoing fascination with remixing '80s culture as a vision of cultural idealism. Some have taken it to task for its level of homage, while others have obsessively cataloged the range of influences in every frame and gesture.

But while Stranger Things may have an over-reliance on outside inspiration, the bigger problem is the show's inability to present female characters who aren't defined by their relation to the plot. Plot-based storytelling isn't inherently an issue, but like another early Netflix show, House of Cards, Stranger Things hides the inadequacies of its writing with fastidious production design, strong performances, steady pacing and just enough interactions with the characters to get a vague sense of their relationships, but without granting them interiority.

Nowhere is that sense of hollowness more apparent than in Stranger Things' treatment of its female characters-a group of women whose actions are entirely dictated by the needs of the plot (Justice for Barb!). Winona Ryder has been at the center of much of the show's acclaim for her fiercely emotional role as Joyce Byers, the grief-stricken mother who's desperately searching for evidence that her missing son, Will (Noah Schnapp), is still alive. But while Ryder brings an exhausted intensity to the role, her characterization is a prime demonstration of the show's disinterest in the characters individual journeys.

Joyce's character is an easy trope-a familiar and lazy archetype in a long history of cinematic and television mothers whose only response to tragedy can be violent denial, and a descent into behavior that makes her an other in the community. She's the standard "crackpot," a character who's at first pitied, and subsequently dismissed as unstable.That's bad enough, but this designation carries a secondary purpose-it allows Ryder's character to exist completely separately from the town.

She's been written into a place of total amnesty from any possible narrative consequences, and also any possible growth. Boarded up in her house for nearly the entirety of the season, she's defined almost completely by her role as a mother, first in her consumption with her lost son, and in the second half of the season as a maternal figure to Eleven. Of course, her being a mother isn't the problem, but so much of her screentime is about her reacting to her own grief and the ways that her son's absence (and presence) shapes her life, rather than her development as her own character.

And in a season that places her in nearly every episode, it's notable that there are only one or two moments when her character isn't in a narrow emotional spectrum consisting of crying and yelling. There's the flashback scene in the first episode where she buys tickets for Poltergeist, and a scene late in the season when she comforts Eleven before she goes into the deprivation tank. Other than these two (very welcome) moments, so much of Joyce's role is reduced to set-up. She's the character who stands on the fringes with the knowledge that everyone needs, but won't believe if it comes from her. And other than those scenes that drive forward the plot-communicating with Will through the lights, being attacked by the Demogorgon-her main purpose is little more than to trigger paranoia in the heads of other characters who can actually enact change, like Jim Hopper (David Harbour) and her son, Jonathan Byers (Charlie Heaton).

In terms of narrative agency, Nancy Wheeler (Natalia Dyer) fares slightly better, especially as she's involved with some of the biggest moments at the end of the season. But she's another character whose actions are, again, reactions to the male characters around her like Steve (Joe Keery), Michael (Finn Wolfhard), and Jonathan. While the four lead boys have lives that exist outside of their relationships with each other, Nancy's screen time is all about, first, her crush on Steve, and then her partnership with Jonathan. The relationship with Steve initially appears to be centered on her own conflicted and exciting feelings about falling for someone, but it's less about Nancy's own feelings than the indifference Steve treats her with after they have sex. And even then, their fallout is just a way for Nancy to connect with Jonathan, after Steve breaks his camera.

Nancy's progression over the whole season is less about her growth as a person, and more about how she becomes a better friend to Jonathan or Barb, or a better sister to Michael. Those relationships are fine on their own, but they point to a larger pattern that shows that Nancy's role in the series is also, always plot-based.

At this point, it may sound like i'm bristling at the fundamental convolutions of a season of television. After all, so much of a successful season is about a combination of invisible orchestration, and creating a world and characters that feel real outside of the context of an episode of TV. But Stranger Things moves in such a way that very few events in the entire season happen without the presence of illogical (and sometimes just bad, sorry Winona) characterization, and a bullying narrative hand.

Eleven is perhaps most representative of these puppet strings. Millie Bobby Brown's performance is startlingly believable, as a young woman who's been trapped in a government chamber her whole life. She's only begun to understand herself, and there's an appeal to watching her interact with basic human objects in totally alien ways. However, at the end of the day, she's little more than a blank slate.

Her character is a piece of clay that can be molded to the whims of the two creators, and she's only recognized as something more when the story needs to feel more emotional. Here again, the show relies on Eleven to be understood through her relationships with male characters, like Dr. Martin Brenner (Matthew Modine) who she's taken to calling, "Papa," and her growing affection for Michael, who treats her with kindness.

And much of Eleven's internal conflicts are still worries that she's not living up to what others want her to do. There's no sense of discovery when she's out in the world alone. She's a plot device that's being restrained until she's needed, and while there's potentially a rationale to, for example, understand why she doesn't immediately tell the boys to travel into the Upside Down world, it's a plot move that ultimately feels like another attempt to delay the story until all the other pieces have caught up. Like Nancy, Joyce (and Barb), Eleven could have been a far more fascinating character, had she been given the chance. And the series would have been better for it.

Stranger Things certainly isn't a bad show, but the ways it uses and discards its female characters are entirely symptomatic of the show's overall approach. This is an entertaining series, filled with engrossing atmosphere, flashy camerawork and an addictively watchable story, but it forgets that the most important part of storytelling is strong characters. Here's hoping a second season will mean a second chance for the girls and women on the show to serve the growth of their characters, as well as the greater plot.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.keywords[]
how the female characters of stranger things reveal its bigger problems

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
How The Female Characters of Stranger Things Reveal Its Bigger Problems

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
In the last month, Netflix's Stranger Things, has become the locus of nearly unanimous praise, sparking a resurgent conversation about current art's ongoing fascination with remixing '80s culture as a vision of cultural idealism. Some have taken it to task for its level of homage, while others have obsessively cataloged the range of influences in every frame and gesture.

# data[].attributes.body
Stranger Things takes place in the 80s and though there isn’t product placement for our era, I noticed there were products that we still continue on today such as coke Eggo and Coco-Cola.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.provider_name
The Dieline | Packaging & Branding Design & Innovation News

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
There are plenty of things we're happy to leave back in the 80s-the hair, the parachute pants, and the Cold War, just to name a few. But whether you loved it or hated it, lived through it or were made in it (or missed it completely), it's natural to feel a little nostalgia for this wild decade. And strangely enough, Netflix is the way to get your 80s fix, with their recently released series, Stranger Things. Those hairstyles! That fashion! And, oh yes: that packaging.

Stranger Things is a thrilling drama about Joyce Byers (Winona Ryder) and the search for her 12 year-old son, Will. In a seemingly sweet and small town of Indiana, the series takes you through some frightening mysteries, including secret government experiments and supernatural forces, and at the same time you are transported to 1983. Throughout the show's 8-episodes, you'll take a walk down memory lane with packaging iterations we've long forgotten, including an old Family Feud, boxes for Eggo waffles, and the mother of all school supplies, a Trapper Keeper.
This is THE definitive guide to the packaging designs you'll see in the first season-we went through all 8 episodes, frame by frame, to find 31 different products. And don't worry, there are no spoilers ahead-just some totally rad packaging.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Stranger Things Product Placement: The Definitive Guide

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
This is THE definitive guide to the packaging designs you'll see in the first season-we went through all 8 episodes, frame by frame, to find 31 different products. And don't worry, there are no spoilers ahead-just some totally rad packaging.