Sin and salvation in Netflix’s ‘Stranger Things’

This post contains spoilers for seasons 1-3 of Netflix’s Stranger Things. While full of empowering messages for both families and young people, the series is not suitable for all ages, and contains language, violence, and some sexuality. For more detailed information, read the series overview by Common Sense Media.

As film studios continue to withdraw their most popular properties from the old guard of digital streaming services (in favor of replacing them on their own platforms, like Disney+), and as our streaming options continue to expand across an ever-growing number of providers, Netflix is confronting a wide range of competition that may soon threaten its once-unquestionable dominance in the industry. In the short term, however, it still commands a handful of properties that have managed to cut through the internet’s noise and to become full-fledged cultural phenomena. Chief among these is Stranger Things, which follows the supernatural adventures of the fictional town of Hawkins, Indiana. The brainchild of 80s pop-culture uberfans Matt and Ross Duffer, it was originally intended as a limited release to be concluded after one season, but those plans were abandoned when both Netflix and the showrunners realized they had something special on their hands.

Among Netflix’s enormous catalogue of original properties, Stranger Things is one of a select few that have already achieved cult classic status. Its popularity can be attributed to a number of creative home runs, including a gaggle of truly lovable three-dimensional characters, a tangible reverence for the unique atmosphere of 1980’s American popular culture, and a balanced comedic tone that elicits laughs without compromising the story’s dramatic elements. It is a series that, per the above overview by Common Sense Media, is not safe for all ages, but is nevertheless broadly enjoyable and just as likely to make most viewers laugh as it is to make them cry — often within the space of a single episode.

Since the beginning, however, Stranger Things has also stood apart for another reason: its uncompromising depiction of supernatural evil.

Season one features a fairly basic setup: a monster (dubbed the Demogorgon by the young lead characters in reference to their Dungeons & Dragons game) slips through a portal from another dimension to devour unassuming suburbanites. Aided by a powerful psychic girl named Eleven (Millie Bobbie Brown, a household name within mere weeks of the series’ release), the youngsters must work together with disgruntled police chief Jim Hopper (the scene-stealing David Harbour) to protect their friends and neighbors and unravel a government conspiracy. The predatory Demogorgon is simply that: a dangerous carnivore from another realm whose only motive is to prey upon those unfortunate enough to cross its path.

Season two ups the stakes by introducing a significantly more threatening antagonist in the non-corporeal, interdimensional phantom called the Mind Flayer (another Dungeons & Dragons reference), which has the ability to psychically possess a human host. Like the Demogorgon before it, the Mind Flayer is never shown to be anything short of pure evil, and its sheer intelligence and disembodied nature invites comparisons to spiritual warfare in a way that the xenomorph-like Demogorgon did not.

Season three adds another intriguing layer to the proceedings when the Mind Flayer returns to possess Billy Hargrove (Dacre Montgomery), a troubled young man who filled the second season’s “bad boy” slot. Not unlike Dracula’s Renfield, Billy falls under the shadowy creature’s direct control and thereafter spends the majority of his screen time committing all manner of ghastly crimes to provide his master with a steady supply of victims. To the horror of the main cast (especially his sister Maxine, played by Sadie Sink), Billy eventually seeks out Eleven, the only member of the group with sufficient power to foil the Mind Flayer’s plot. But just as Billy moves to deliver a killing blow, Eleven uses her psychic abilities to penetrate into the darkest recesses of Billy’s memories, where she discovers something unexpected: Billy’s dormant memories of his mother.

In one of the show’s most emotionally engaging sequences, Billy’s memories grant him just enough willpower to resist the Mind Flayer’s control, whereupon he defends his sister and her friends against the very horror he helped unleash — laying down his very life in the process.

Though Stranger Things is not known for its spiritual elements, it is of some comfort that the zeitgeist favors a series whose climax can help recall these words by Pope Francis: “Mothers are the strongest antidote to the spread of self-centered individualism.”

Purposefully or not, Stranger Things seems to suggest— and the saints, I’d wager, would agree — that motherhood provides an individual with a window to Truth, Goodness, and especially to Beauty. It is also interesting that Eleven — a character imbued with otherworldly powers, yet whose dominant character traits are benevolence and self-sacrifice — is the one who brings this repressed memory forward, thereby healing Billy’s damaged heart. Viewers with Biblical eyes will of course see the cultural roots of this imagery from a mile away: In our own dark moments, when we are most weighed down by our failures and sins, it is precisely this sort of received, unconditional love that allows us to step back into the light.

Furthermore, ought we not to consider the mysterious role that supernatural Grace has played in our own moments of peril? Watching the once-corrupted Billy turn and defy the demon he served, might we even glimpse something of the divine promise that if we only lay down our lives then we, too, shall be forgiven?

If this seems like a lot to read into a story that owes far more to Steven King and Steven Spielberg than the writers of the Gospels, well… it is.  And, to be fair, there are also those who argue that the story does more harm than good (see Patrick Coffin’s review for more on that). But as it continues to be streamed by so many viewers in our Christ-haunted society, perhaps we may yet dare to hope that this small taste of Beauty — of authentic, heart-converting love — can serve to awaken the audience’s desire for Truth and Goodness in turn.

As Dostoevsky said (and many Christians have agreed):

“Beauty will save the world.”

Stranger Things is rated TV-14 and is currently available for streaming on Netflix.