The soundtrack

It’s the 1980s, so do expect a lot of heavy synth. And by a lot, I mean that the original credit sequence by Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein, part of US group Survive, would put the likes of Kraftwerk to shame. Cheesy? Sure, but it works. Reminiscent of the likes of the X-Files theme, with a bit of the haunting element from Angelo Badalmenti’s Twin Peaks theme track for good measure, it’s a hybrid of the best the 1980s had to offer.

This awesomeness is not limited to the intro sequence. The Spotify playlist for Season One reads like a slice of aural heaven. There’s Foreigner, with I’ve Been Waiting for a Girl Like You, Echo & The Bunnymen’s Nocturnal Me, Corey Hart’s original Sunglasses at Night, Vangelis’s Fields of Coral and a cover of David Bowie’s Heroes hidden in in there.

Unless my memory serves me wrong, The Smiths’s There Is a Light That Never Goes Out also makes an appearance at one point. The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go Now is a recurrent theme but, from my point of view, the crowning moment of the series takes place when the first few poignant notes to Joy Division’s Atmosphere start playing, soon after the first ‘body’ is found.

The choice of music plays a pivotal part in the aura created by this series; the protagonists exchange carefully-created mixtapes (is there anything more romantic than the notion of a mixtape?) and even discuss the attractions of The Clash and Joy Division without being accused of pretentiousness, because this was actually the music of their generation. And aren’t we all jealous.

Eleven

Or, Ellie, as the kids start calling her. However, the viewers never think of Experiment Eleven, the little girl who manages to escape from Hawkins National Laboratory – which, the US’s Department of Energy assures us doesn’t exist in real life, which I’m sure will make everyone sleep easier – as anything but Eleven. No cute abbreviation can do justice to this spooky force of nature and science and we fall in love with the shaven-headed imp as soon as we spot her wolfing down French fries, burgers and ice cream in the ill-fated diner.

I want my mind to be teased into fear with a scene that hints at multiple possibilities, but doesn’t quite let on precisely what’s happening

There are too many awesome Eleven moments to list here, but top of the pops have to be the two anti-bullying scenes where we see here humiliating one of the school creeps by making him pee himself in front of the whole school.

Then, there is that other time when she breaks said bully’s arm with a mere twist of her neck. Did I mention that her darkness is part of her allure? Because Eleven is one mean bitch, make no mistake about it, but her heart is in the right place and she always comes through in the end.

Her dark side is beautifully juxtaposed against the innocent, naive, aspect of her character. Friends don’t lie, she whispers time and time again. Then there are the unbearably cute moments. Like Finn, trying to explain to her the concept of a date – “No it won’t be like my sister. Not like a friend, even. It’s... Different.” – is almost unbearably cute.

She breaks our heart a million times, such as when offered real family food and asks for Eggos. But nowhere does she break it as bad as in that final, tear-inducing scene.

Shades of The Goonies.

The references to 1980s cult movies

This will probably only work for 1980s and, maybe 1990s, kids like myself. That generation that grew up watching the likes of The Goonies (this camaraderie of four plus six, boyfriend and third wheel around which Stranger Things revolves makes no mystery about its origins) and ET.

I dare anyone to persuade me that the bicycle scene where the boys are trying to escape the shady government types with Eleven riding pillion does not bring to mind little Elliott attempting an escape with our favourite alien.

This is the same generation of viewers that then graduated to John Carpenter’s The Thing. The entire atmosphere in the Upside Down is totally a Carpenter trope.

There are shades of Poltergeist, with Winona Ryder as the distraught mother whose son is trapped in another dimension making contact through the radio, using light bulbs as a Ouija board. Substitute the radio for a TV set and you get Tobe Hooper’s masterpiece. Spotting the references is fun and I really need to rewatch the entire series just to figure out which ones I’ve missed. Well. That’s my excuse, anyway.

The climactic scene at the end of the series.

The tropes turned on their heads

If you grew up on a diet of 1980s high school films, then you will be familiar with the ever-present character tropes. All 1980s high schools had their standard cliques – the jocks, the nets, the cheerleaders and... the weirdo. That loner who never seems to get along with any of the other students, who may also have some sort of criminal past/serious issues, but who is also cute as hell and we all just know that he is going to capture the heart of the prettiest girl in school. So far, so predictable. Cue characters like John Bender in The Breakfast Club; Duckie in Pretty in Pink, Lloyd Dobbler in Say Anything... you get the gist.

Stranger Things comes with its own resident, adorable weirdo (they always are, adorable, that is Jonathan Byers. He’s a bit of stalker, photographing Nancy in her underwear and no one likes him. But we all know that the two will totally get together.

Then there’s the equivalent of the jock – Steve Harrington and Nancy’s actual boyfriend. He’s popular, brash and dangerous and we all know that he will turn out to be a real jerk to Nancy and break her heart, until she decides to see the light and get together with Jonathan, of course.

Only, not quite. Stranger Things takes all those tropes and uses them to lull you into a false sense of security. Enter the love triangle between Nancy, Steve and Jonathan. Sure, Steve is an obvious jerk. He more or less pressures Nancy into giving him her virginity, hangs out with the bullies, is stereotypically handsome and with the attitude of a bastard to match. Jonathan, on the other hand, is the product of a strange childhood, moody, unpopular...

If you’ve watched as many 1980s romantic films as I have, it all seems like a foregone conclusion. Or is it? Only one way to find out, if you haven’t done so already. All I will reveal is that Season 2 is going to be extremely educational.

Stranger Things turns high school tropes on their heads.

The fear factor

Is Stranger Things scary? That’s a bit of a difficult one to answer. It’s touted as suspense/horror. And yes, there is one hell of a nasty monster in it. After all, one doesn’t casually throw around the John Carpenter comparison unless there are enough dark shockers to make us squeal like little girls. Yes, there will be fear and there’s a good chance you won’t want to venture in the basement – assuming you have one – all by yourself right after watching an episode. The intro alone is pee-in-your-pants worthy.

However, and it’s a big however, the series doesn’t inspire the kind of silly fear that contemporary Hollywood horror films – which I tend to find too obvious and clichéd inspire.

To put it bluntly, if it’s torture porn that you’re after, this doesn’t cut it. If it’s splatterings of blood and gore everywhere, same argument applies. Which, from I’m sitting is a good thing. I don’t want my senses to be shocked by infantile techniques, such as fridge doors opening and nasty spirits jumping out to give me a fright. Or by sadistic killers who insist on showing us every second of the hacking of various limbs.

Thanks, but no thanks. I want my horror to have a degree of refinement. I want my mind to be teased into fear with a scene that hints at multiple possibilities, but doesn’t quite let on precisely what’s happening. I want my imagination to do the work, because that will be a hell of a lot more effective than a split-second fright as I’m being spoon-fed all details in their gory glory.

Stranger Things delivers. I was scared. I whimpered when I had to walk into my bedroom in the dark. And yes, I looked under the bed for monsters.

Stranger Things is available on Netflix.