‘Stranger Things’ and the New Jerusalem

The end times have come. No, not the Apocalypse. Just a popular culture phenomenon – Stranger Things. This is Netflix’s incredibly successful science fiction magnum opus. Science fiction, however, is only a fraction of the narrative genre that it represents. It certainly touches on the apocalyptic genre and like the Apocalypse its central theme is the struggle between good and evil. But It is also about friendship, love and animosity, truth and falsehood and the triumph of innocence over deceit. Again, like the Apocalypse, the ultimate triumph being fought for is the one which we all hope for. Not exactly the New Jerusalem but instead, the new Hawkins, the small fictional Indiana town where the Beast of the Book of Revelation is waging war on humanity.

Stranger Things is the brainchild of the Duffer brothers, Matt and Ross. Born in North Carolina, they migrated to California where they studied film. Then, when what became Stranger Things was born, they relocated to Atlanta, Georgia where for more than ten years they devoted themselves to creating this astounding cultural artefact.

Only time will tell what the long-term cultural impact of this will be. It is too soon to say whether this work of imagination will take its place with those other great truth-telling fantasies or fables which were left with us in the 20th century, C.S. Lewis’ Narnia novels and J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. If it does it will be because it shares with them a vision of our world, existentially and permanently threatened by the forces of evil and in which the resistance and eventual defeat of  that evil depends on the power of innocence, innate human goodness and a mysterious strength which we see as grace – although the Duffer brothers are not explicit about that.

Stranger Things, however, is not a book. It is a creative work in a medium which can be powerful but which lacks the capacity for subtlety which a literary work possesses. That is why the representations of Lewis’ and Tolkien’s work in the medium of film ultimately failed to convey any of the real meaning of the Narnia stories or of Lord of the Rings.

The surface sources for the Duffers inspiration in making Stranger Things are clear – the works of Stephen King, John Carpenter and Steven Spielberg, as well as other iconic films and books with which their childhood and adolescence were populated. What is not so clear but equally part of the creative mix are the mystical and spiritual influences on the work. The audience is left to make its own interpretation here and many ‘readers’  of this fantasy-fable see Christian and religious themes running through it, down to the powerful very last scenes.

We have, however, no reliable public statements from either of the Duffers to indicate a commitment to a specific religion or spiritual belief system. They have kept this aspect of their personal lives largely private, and their mainstream interviews focus on their creative influences and their professional work rather than personal faith.  Read into this what you like: Duffer is a version of the Irish name, Duffy. Have the old Celtic spiritual values been at work here in some way? The jury is out on that.

One way or the other, like true artists, the Duffers leave their work to carry on its own conversation with us,  our values and our  imagination.

Stranger Things is a visual tour de force of adventure and dramatic energy. But in all that there is also a very powerful subtext. This is carried from start to final climax over its five series by the dozen or more protagonists who fill out the story which has taken ten or eleven years to tell. At least six of them started as pre-teens and have just finished their narrative in their early 20s. That alone is an incredible achievement. 

The story begins by telling us that something very sinister is going on in Hawkins. Firstly, there is a secret government research facility. What is its mission? It has been set up to design and create two different weapons of war – both utterly unethical and ultimately monstrous. The first is the creation of a new kind of animal – like a wild beast; the second is the development of a modified human being, one  with extraordinary and lethal powers. The latter are formed from children stolen from their mothers at the moment of birth. Over the years of their childhood and adolescence they are then processed to have extraordinary powers with a view to training them to be killers. In addition to this, a new version of the world is created, either advertently or inadvertently. This is called ”The Upside Down”, and is a terrifying mirror image of the real Hawkins, located underneath its streets and woods. It is in fact hell-on-earth.

The government Frankensteinian agents operating this monstrous research facility are undoubtedly evil but unknowingly they clearly also become agents of an evil force beyond the human realm. 

In the beginning of the drama three things happen around which the entire plot revolves: one of the doglike monsters escapes and begins to murder and cause havoc in this apparently peaceful town. Four boys are playing Dungeons and Dragons – we are in the 1980s – in the basement of the home of one of them. They finish the game and three cycle off home but one never gets there; the alarm is raised next day and when three of the boys are searching in the woods of Hawkins for their friend they find a small girl wandering around  in what looks like a polka-dot night-dress. She is a victim of the dark experiments going on in the Hawkins laboratory. She has escaped from there. She turns out to already have special preternatural powers cruelly developed in her by her vicious captors. The boys befriend her and unknown to their parents hide her in the basement where they play their games. That is just the beginning of their long adventure.

There have been numerous and varied interpretations of Stranger Things, many of them seeing in it a morality tale – although some behaviour, even by sympathetic characters, falls short of the moral standards we might like to see. The production of this epic took place over the decade  in which ‘wokeism’ and DEI values reached their nadir. With hundreds of people feeding ideas into the story and with the Duffers allowing creative freedom to guest writers and directors, it would probably be too much to expect that it might escape those influences. 

In the religious website, Patheos, Frederick Schmidt writes about the series as a treatise on the enormity of evil. At first what he found powerfully attractive were the friendships, alliances, and the struggle of the adults in the story to be good parents. Then as the story  told by the Duffers progressed he found it taking on a surprising and deeper significance. “They seemed”, he wrote, “to be telling a story about what happens when evil inserts itself into a world where no one expects it and, as such, it is simply a horror story.” 

The escaped girl is called El by the boys, short for Eleven, because the digits ‘011’ were branded on her wrist in the laboratory. Schmidt says that as she begins to defend her new friends and probe her own history, a still deeper level is exposed. “It becomes apparent that (consciously or not) the Duffer brothers aren’t just telling a story about what happens when evil reveals itself.  It is a story about how evil – once we give ourselves to it – can possess and dominate us.”  He argues that through the callous technocracy rampant in the Hawkins lab the scientists are wounded by the logic of someone who is guided only by what he can do and not what he should do. Anything familiar resonating there?

“In a world without God”, Schmidt writes, “into which the power of evil makes itself felt, the central diabolical  character – called Vecna – threatens Hawkins and the world with destruction. In a cosmos where confession and absolution is unavailable, we are undone by our guilt.”

Guilt and the need for forgiveness are touched on in the story of Max, a girl from a broken home who joins El and the band of boys. Sadly, on her conscience she carries a sense of guilt about ongoing quarrels she has had with her abusive older – much older –  brother before he became another victim of Vecna. When she herself seems destined to become Vecna’s victim she cries out, “I am not ready to die” implying that until she can get forgiveness for that past she cannot face death. At this point Kate Bush (off screen) intervenes inviting her in the words of  her great anthem, Make a Deal With God. Sound like Confession?

In another sequence, a troubled high school kid, Eddie Munson, who is another late entrant to the band fighting Vecna, draws off attacking monsters by separating himself from his besieged friends. (Spoiler). He dies in the process but before his last breath he whispers to his friend Justin who has tried to save him, “Look after my sheep.” It all adds up to validating why so many people interpret this story as a kind of parable of martyrdom and redemption.

At the end of the final chapter – this may be a spoiler, – after a character’s life has been willingly sacrificed to save Hawkins and all who live there, one of the boys reads this for what it is, a salvific act, believing that the character in question is alive and happy in a  new world. He tells this to his friends, once again gathered around the table in his basement, now joined by a few others who have become protagonists, including Max. He says explicitly, this “I believe”. He then looks at each of the others and each in turn confesses, “I believe”. 

Make of it what you will.

Curiouser and curiouser – “Stranger Things” and the Culture Wars

stranger-things-poster

(Spoiler alert if you have not seen the series yet)

Past ages, and the institutional powers of other ages – spiritual and temporal – were much less tolerant of free interpretations of influential texts in our culture. Our freedoms now are more respected.

However, as one cultural critic (Michel de Certeau) has observed,

“Today, it is the socio-political mechanisms of the schools, the press or television that isolate the text controlled by the teacher or the producer from its readers. But behind the theatrical décor of this new orthodoxy is hidden (as in earlier ages) the silent, transgressive, ironic or poetic activity of readers (or television viewers) who maintain their reserve in private and without the knowledge of the masters.”

It is with this freedom, and in this spirit, that I have watched and been enthralled by Matt and Ross Duffer‘s runaway Netflix success, Stranger Things.

What we read, hear and see in the artefacts of our civilization depends not only on the genius of the creators of those artefacts. It is also often determined by our own experiences and by the power, character and developed state of our own creative imaginations.

What Alice in Wonderland, Animal Farm or Lord of the Rings says to us is not only what their authors’ intended to say but it may also be elaborated and enriched for us by what our own thoughts, sensibilities and experience of life bring to the creative table.

Stranger Things is, I think, one of those artefacts which is giving us much more to think about than we realise. Before you shout out in outrage, be assured that I am not – yet – bracketing this contribution to popular culture among the great artefacts of our civilization. It has its flaws but it also has its great moments.

After the first series of Stranger Things was streamed on Netflix last year, the Duffer brothers, its creators, had a conversation with Dawn Bonker, a senior writer on the website of their alma mater, Chapman University.

It’s about much more, they say, than the story of a small town turned on a tilt when a young boy named Will disappears, a strange little girl (Millie Bobby Brown) arrives and a paranormal mystery unfolds. Tantalisingly, and disappointingly, Bonker does not explore what that “much more” might be – with the exception of an observation by Ross that the story is about friendship.

As the plot unfolds the boys teach the little girl, called “Eleven” – because all they know about her is that she has 11 branded on her wrist – how to be a friend, how to trust people, and that “friends never tell each other lies”. The truly sinister and deeper layer of meaning of the story centres on the origin and treatment of this little girl and her mother. Their persecutors are the genetic and mind-bending scientists at work in the government laboratory on the edge of the town. “Eleven” has been raised in this laboratory, manipulated and physically abused. The boys she stumbles across when she escapes from her murdering manipulators help her on the road back to normal humanity.

Ross: There’s something so innocent and sweet about how central friendship is to them. When you really boil it down, that’s what really matters. It’s those very simple life lessons – being a good friend can go a long way.

Matt: On television there’s been this huge avalanche of shows with antiheroes. A lot of our characters are goodhearted people. And they have a lot of compassion.

Bonker asks, was that your universal truth, or a theme you were trying to convey?

Ross: I hope so.… Even when there’s darkness, people leave the show feeling a bit of hope there.… It’s about these friends that are there for each other no matter what, that there’s this mom (Winona Ryder) that’s there for her son no matter what. And to us there’s something both universal, and hopeful, about that.… That’s where we wanted to go.

Yes, but I think they go much farther than that. The darkness he talks about is really dark. Indeed it is as dark as the hell of Paradise Lost or the land of Mordor. This is the “upside-down world” of the plot, intimately and terrifyingly known to “Eleven” and into which characters stray and in which some lose their lives, others lose their minds and which throughout the series encroaches on the real world. Its hidden forces are seeking to infiltrate and possess our world for their own grotesque and malign purposes.

On the surface these are natural forces manipulated by humans. Netflix, not quite accurately in its promotional material, speaks of supernatural powers. But in fact what we are shown is the work of vile  power-hungry people and their mal-functioning experiments. The preternatural evil may emanate from the Father of Evil but if it does it does so like most of the evil in the world – through the medium of mankind.

Back in the 1950s we had the Red Scare. This in its turn spawned the monster of McCarthyism. We look back on that now and see it all as so much paranoia. But as the old joke goes, just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they are not out to get me. McCarthyism revolted us and was essentially an instrument as capable of perpetrating injustice as what it railed against. More effective antidotes of the age were the fables and fictions which countered the threat – ranging from those of Orwell, Huxley and others, to the productions of Hollywood’s own fable-factory – like Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), described as one of the greatest science-fiction films of all time. The original version (there have been several remakes) captures better than any other film the fears of that era.

So, if the Duffer Brothers are warning us about a threat to our civilization wrapped up in a piece of ‘eighties nostalgia with echoes of E.T. and The Goonies, what might it be? I can’t say what it is for them, but I know what it is for me.

There are two strands of evil at work in the US Department of Energy’s Hawkins National Laboratory. In what way they are connected or were originally connected is not clear. I does not matter. One has resulted, through the manipulation of mothers and their children, in the development of human beings with super powers which the super State clearly intends to use for its own ends. The other has resulted in the creation of a super virus which controls carnivorous dog-like monsters and which can also take possession of humans. The scientists in HNL have lost control of the virus and now it is threatening to overrun the planet, leaving us with an “upside-down world” as terrifying as anything Cormac McCarthy laid out before us in The Road.

The dystopia of Stranger Things may be read as a metaphor for many things: a world wrecked by man-made climate change; a world destroyed by the genetic manipulation of our food supply; a world mirroring that in which the laboratories of Planned Parenthood trades the body parts of human babies it aborts “for the good of humanity”. Take your pick.  It may also be a warning that the nonsense of gender ideology and the attempted manipulation of our biological selves is destroying the very essence of our humanity. This indeed is, for me, the most compelling interpretation and seems to be underlined by the fight-back of two of the characters who are among HNL’s victims – Eleven and her sister – as well as the mother who fights for the body and soul of Will who has been possessed by the virus to end all viruses.

It seems to be further supported by the juxtaposition of the murdering evil men and women of HNL with the semi-innocent adults and the wholly innocent dungeons-and-dragons besotted twelve-year-old kids of a sleepy Midwest town.

For anyone with the slightest trace of paranoia about malign cultural forces running amok in our society, this speaks volumes. Is there a day, certainly not a week, which goes by without some new grim warning about what our gender-bending ideologists are asking the scientific and medical community to do for them. Take just one example from a recent Daily Telegraph headline, “Sex change regret: Gender reversal surgery is on the rise, so why aren’t we talking about it?”

The accompanying article spelled out a disturbing scenario and related allegations of cover-up and manipulation surrounding it. Echoes from Stranger Things were loud and clear.

In it we are told that around five years ago, Professor Miroslav Djordjevic, the world-leading genital reconstructive surgeon, received a visit at his Belgrade clinic: a transgender person who had undergone surgery at different clinics to remove male genitalia – and since changed their mind.

That was the first time Prof Djordjevic had ever been contacted to perform a so-called gender reassignment “reversal” surgery. Over the next six months, another six people also approached him, similarly wanting to reverse their procedures. They came from countries all over the western world, united by an acute sense of regret.

But these stories are taboo, they are not being heard. Over a week ago, it was alleged that Bath Spa University turned down an application for research on gender reassignment reversal because it was a subject deemed “potentially politically incorrect”. James Caspian, a psychotherapist who specialises in working with transgender people, suggested the research after a conversation with Prof Djordjevic in 2014 at a London restaurant where the Serbian told him about the number of reversals he was seeing, and the lack of academic rigour on the subject.

Djordjevic’s real nightmare is this: while the World Professional Association for Transgender Health guidelines currently state that nobody under the age of 18 should undergo this surgery, he fears this age limit could soon be reduced to include minors.

Were that to happen, he says, he would refuse to abide by the rules. “I’m afraid what will happen five to 10 years later with this person,” he says. “It is more than about surgery; it’s an issue of human rights. I could not accept them as a patient because I’d be afraid what would happen to their brain and mind.”

Add to that, the story, also in the Telegraph (November 13), that the Church of England has issued advice for teachers in church schools, fully supported by the Archbishop of Canterbury, which said that primary school-age boys and girls should be allowed to dress up in whatever they choose, regardless of their gender, including a “tutu, princess’s tiara and heels and/or the fireman’s helmet, tool belt and superhero cloak”.

Rev Nigel Genders, The Archbishop’s Chief Education Officer, speaking about advice says: “Our guidance is practical. It says that children should be able to explore their identities as they grow up.

“For smaller children this may involve getting the dressing box out. For older pupils it might mean having informed conversations to grow in knowledge and respect for each other.”

I haven’t seen anything yet about a third series of Stranger Things coming down the tracks. The Duffer Brothers ended series two… Well, I better not say anything. But there seemed to be a nod to something ominous, suggesting that the “upside-down world” hadn’t gone away.

Indeed it hasn’t – and from news like that above it seems that the Archbishop of Canterbury might even be leading us there.