By Haoran Xia
Published on: DeepFocus
July 6, 2022
By the time Stranger Things reaches its fourth season, the fate of Hawkins becomes increasingly difficult to predict. Through battle after battle with the Upside Down, the town is shattered, reassembled, and reborn again and again, like molecules suspended in the air, constantly reacting with multiple forces and elements in strange chemical alignments. The birth of a child, almost by some unseen design, nourishes the growth of subterranean evil; layers of blood-red fog and dark nightmares arrive like old acquaintances, always descending upon Hawkins at its brightest moments.
Light and darkness are forever intertwined—when hope and joy reach their peak, desire and hatred erupt in tandem. As the narrative expands, the Hawkins universe gradually detaches itself from its original body and disperses across the globe, constructing a three-dimensional world that stretches from California to the Soviet Union through multiple independent yet resonant storylines that intertwine with the main arc. This time, these children’s adventures are no longer confined to bicycle chases behind their houses, verbal skirmishes at roller rinks, or last stands at local amusement parks. Like the town of Hawkins itself, their world is torn into awkward, fragmented pieces. Scattered across different corners of the world, they cling to one another through memory and a peculiar kind of ingenuity, gripping tightly in their minds every absent companion as they struggle, with all their strength, to piece together a Hawkins puzzle that has already fallen apart.
Three years ago, in May, global audiences gathered anxiously before their televisions, waiting to see who would ultimately claim the Iron Throne. Three years later, this July, viewers once again sit in anxious anticipation—only this time, the Iron Throne has been reduced to ashes by dragonfire, its myths dissipating into the cold winds of Winterfell alongside the Night King and his army. The final confrontation between the children of Stranger Things and Vecna has become the new gravitational center of the television galaxy. If one were to name a truly “global” phenomenon in the post–Game of Thrones era, Stranger Things would undoubtedly rank among the top three. The reason is simple: Hawkins carries forward the legacy of the fantasy world. In an era numbed by monotony, saturated with white noise, and defined by post-pandemic exhaustion, it fulfills the ultimate adolescent fantasies of three generations—Gen X, Gen Y, and Gen Z alike. Dragons may have vanished entirely, but the darkness and blood-red hues of the Upside Down, psychic powers and monsters, continue to spread unchecked through every corner of our reality.
The success of Stranger Things is, of course, no accident. Its intoxicating 1980s retro aesthetic is saturated with Spielbergian memory: Jaws posters everywhere, the overwhelming visual grandeur of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the encounter between humanity and the non-human or superhuman in E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. The fantasy cinema of the 1980s belonged to Spielberg, and each of those films opened, within the mind, a window leading to another world. These windows do not fade with time; instead, they embed themselves deeper into our subconsciousness, constantly reminding us that perhaps there truly exists a parallel world—one unreachable by the body, yet accessible through consciousness alone. Beyond fantasy, oversized posters of Tom Cruise and cassette tapes of Radiohead and David Bowie recur throughout the series. These irreproducible cultural relics of the 1980s seize the attention of Gen X viewers, whispering directly to them: “The 1980s you loved never left.”
For Gen Y, these symbols may feel more distant, but the narrative of children banding together to fight monsters is deeply familiar. They grew up alongside Harry Potter learning magic at Hogwarts to defeat Voldemort, and Frodo leaving the Shire on a suicidal journey to Mordor in The Lord of the Rings. They were raised believing in the existence of fantasy worlds, having long memorized stories of collective resistance against evil. They knew that their inner fantasies would not vanish with Voldemort’s defeat or the destruction of the One Ring; the vessel would simply continue in another form. The viscous “gates” in Stranger Things thus became their new Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Gen Z may remember Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings only vaguely, but the Iron Throne, the birth of dragons, and the Night King beyond the Wall formed the atoms of their fantasy universe. As Westeros rapidly sank into oblivion, Hawkins and the Upside Down arrived at precisely the right moment to fill the fantasy void left behind.
Thus, the success of Stranger Things is not a coincidence born of imagination alone, but the product of overlapping cultural dimensions and generational symbols. It absorbs the richest nutrients of three eras—retro aesthetics, fantasy worlds, and adolescent camaraderie—and constructs a new cultural sticker through layers of classic elements and narrative devices, wrapping itself tightly around the fantastical cortex of every viewer. Unconsciously, Stranger Things has already become a new-generation IP symbol, quietly shaping the cultural initiation of those to come, sketching out fresh mythologies of magic and wonder.
Magic, however, does not reside solely in the construction of fantasy worlds, but also in the revival of the Cold War imagination. From the first season onward, references to the Reagan era and “Soviet monsters” are scattered throughout the series, inevitably prompting speculation: is the Upside Down a dimension engineered by the former Soviet Union through science? Is everything part of a grand Soviet conspiracy? By the fourth season, as the camera follows Hopper into the frozen remnants of the USSR, these questions appear to resolve themselves. The Cold War backdrop proves largely incidental to narrative progression; whether Hopper is in Alaska or Miami, he would likely face the same fate. The Cold War framework simply drapes the series in another layer of political thriller aesthetics, offering speculative misdirection. By now, seasoned viewers understand the core of Stranger Things: no amount of Cold War spectacle deepens our understanding of the story. Instead, it merely highlights the hollowness of American beaconism—whose supposed moral sanctuary is utterly insignificant within the chaos of the Upside Down.
If 1980s nostalgia and fantasy serve as Stranger Things’ most beautiful outer shell, then the coming-of-age narrative and spirit of friendship inherited from Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings form its hardest and most tender core. The story begins with the search for Will. Three boys, labeled as freaks at school and routinely bullied, draw upon science-class knowledge and boundless imagination to trace clues through their small town. Along the way, they hesitate, fear, and tremble—but in their twelve-year-old world, their friendship holds up the sky. Without Will, that sky collapses by one corner. Gradually, Eleven, Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, Max, and others expand the network of friendship, teaching them not only how to confront inner demons and monsters from the Upside Down, but also how to recognize themselves more clearly through one another. They learn that even if they are not star athletes or the most popular kids in school, their identities, strengths, and intelligence are valid. Without changing themselves for others, they extend their world outward, growing freely into versions of themselves that are unexpected yet entirely inevitable.
Whether it is Robin finally confronting her own feelings, Steve discovering the kind and sincere self hidden behind his former reflection through years with Nancy, or Will—unable to voice his truth to Mike, yet soothing his panic with honesty and love-through-compromise—each battle with demons and each passing school break allows them to uncover possibilities long buried within. As Dustin tells Lucas, “We’re just weird.” Perhaps so—but being weird is not frightening. What is frightening is being drowned out by noise and fearing the most authentic version of oneself.
Built upon the groundwork of the first three seasons, the fourth season pierces directly into the raw nerve of growth: regret. This becomes Vecna’s bait. Those who have not reconciled with their past become his prey, and Max is among them. As Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill plays in her mind, memories of choosing dresses with Eleven, attending the dance with Lucas, and sharing their first kiss flash before her eyes. These memories, carried by the lyrics, tear through the clouds of Vecna’s world, carving a path back to reality. Like the song’s refrain—“If I only could, I’d make a deal with God”—Max, and all regret-filled adolescents, wish to bargain with God, to return and mend what was broken. Yet once back in the real world, Max realizes she does not need a song to save her from darkness or death. What she needs is to face the past and hold onto every second of the present—because only by fully inhabiting the now can one cross the trial of regret.
By now, every character in Stranger Things has gradually found their place. The tone of the series has shifted from adolescent exuberance toward adulthood, presenting the children with heavier choices—college, relocation, separation. Their lives are no longer confined to the simplicity of “riding your bike to a friend’s house.” They now stand at a crossroads, asking themselves: what comes next? The future will only grow more difficult. In the final moments of Season Four, Eleven, Mike, and the others stand atop a hill, watching lightning and storm clouds engulf a corner of the town below, as the vegetation around them begins to wither. After Vecna, only greater challenges await them.
作者：夏浩然
发表于：深焦DeepFocus
二零二二 七月六日
到了第四季， 霍金斯的命运变得更加难以揣测。 在一次又一次与异世界的战役中，这座小镇被粉碎，复合，又再涅槃重生，如同空气中的分子一般，它始终与多方力量和元素生发着奇妙的化学反应——一个孩子的诞生冥冥中滋润了地底邪恶力量的生长，一层层血红色的浓雾和暗黑梦魇似乎是老友相逢，总在霍金斯的高光时刻降临，光明与黑暗永远参半，当希望和欢乐达到顶峰之时，也是欲念和仇恨爆发之时。随着故事线延展，霍金斯宇宙也逐渐脱离母体世界，分散至全球各地，用多条独立，但又与主线交织、共鸣的故事线建筑一个从加州跨越至苏联的三维世界。这一次，孩子们的冒险不仅仅限于家门后院的自行车追逐，旱冰场的唇枪舌战和游乐场的最后一搏， 犹如霍金斯小镇， 他们的世界被撕扯成一个个狼狈不堪的拼图，他们在世界各个角落， 凭借回忆的力量和怪诞般的智慧，在脑海中紧紧拽着另外每一个伙伴，用尽全力拼凑这张已经支离破碎的霍金斯拼图。
三年前的五月，全球观众围坐在电视机前焦急地等待着铁王座最后花落谁手，三年后的这个七月，全球观众再次焦急地围坐在电视机前，而这一次，铁王座已毁于龙焰，龙的故事与夜王的传说一起消散在临冬城的寒风之中， 《怪奇物语》里孩子们与维克那的终极之战成了新一代电视银河系的中心。如果要在后《权力的游戏》时代挑选另一部具有“全球性”的电视作品，《怪奇物语》一定位于前三，原因也非常简单——霍金斯延续了奇幻世界的传奇，在当下这个乏味枯燥，充满白色噪音的后疫情时代里，它填满了 x 时代，y 时代和 z 时代三代人的终极中二幻想，虽然龙似乎已经彻底灭绝，但颠倒世界中的暗黑和血色，超能力和怪物仍然放肆地弥漫在现实世界里的各个角落。
当然《怪奇物语》的走红绝不是偶然，它令人着迷的 80 年代复古风处处携带着斯皮尔伯格记忆——随处可见的《大白鲨》海报，《第三类接触》中磅礴的视觉效果，以及《E.T.外星人》里人类与非人类/超强物种的邂逅，80 年代的奇幻电影世界着实属于斯皮尔伯格，而每一部奇幻电影的放映都为每一个观众打开了，在意念里，通往另一个世界的窗口，这些窗口不会因为时间而淡却，反而会更加深嵌进我们的潜意识中，时刻提醒着我们，或许真实存在着另一个我们无法通过肉体到达，但能通过意识到达的美妙平行世界。
奇幻世界之外，汤姆·克鲁斯的大头海报和电台司令还有大卫·鲍伊的磁带在剧集中反复出现，这些无法复刻的80 年代文化符号抓住每一位 x 时代观众的眼球，亲声告诉他们“你们心爱的 80 年代从未离开”。对于 y 时代而言，或许这些时代文化符号稍显生疏，但“孩子们团结一体共同对抗怪物“的故事从不陌生，因为伴随他们长大的是在霍格沃滋里学习魔法抵抗伏地魔的哈利·波特和佛罗多一行人远离夏尔，赴死前往魔多销毁魔戒的中土传奇《指环王》 。y 时代的他们从小便相信奇幻世界的存在，也早已把集体抗恶的故事背得滚瓜烂熟，因为他们知道自己心中的奇妙幻想不会因为伏地魔的灰飞烟灭和魔戒的毁灭而消失，这个载体只会一直延续下去，而《怪奇物语》中的那一个个黏糊糊的“入口”则成为了他们新一个“九又四分之三站台”。z 时代可能仍模糊地记得《哈利·波特》和《指环王》，但《权力的游戏》中的铁王座之战，龙的诞生和长城以北的夜王大军才是他们奇幻宇宙的原子，而当维斯特洛大陆迅速下沉之时，霍金斯和颠倒世界恰好弥补了他们心中的奇幻黑洞。
所以，《怪奇物语》的成功不是偶然与想象的结合， 而是一个多维度文化和年代符号的叠加物， 同时， 它吸收了三个年代最好的营养——复古元素， 奇幻世界和少年情谊，被一层又一层经典元素和叙事构造成一个全新的文化贴纸，紧紧包裹着我们每一个人的奇幻脑层。冥冥中， 《怪奇物语》已经成为新一代的 IP 符号，默默影响着下一代人的文化启蒙，为他们勾勒全新的魔幻传奇。
而魔幻不仅在于奇幻世界的构造，也在于冷战时期的重启。从第一季到现在，“里根时代”，“苏联怪兽”等词条穿插在剧集中各个角落里，无疑不让观众猜测，这个异世界是否是前苏联利用科学打造一个破次元社会？是否这一切都是前苏联的阴谋论？到了第四季，镜头跟随哈珀来到寒冷的前苏联，种种事件后，关于前苏联的一切疑问似乎都迎刃而解，因为冷战背景下的支线似乎对情节发展意义不大，因为无论哈珀身处阿拉斯加还是迈阿密，他都极有可能遭遇同种经历。冷战背景的加入为剧集披上了“政治惊悚”的又一层外衣，在人们猜想之时给予另一种可能性，不过时至今日，熟悉《怪奇物语》的观众已经知道这部剧的核心，所以无论多么华丽的“冷战”支线也无法帮助我们理解或笑话新故事线的情节，反而是在侧面突出冷战时期美国的灯塔主义，但恰恰不巧的是， 灯塔主义的政治庇护在异世界的混沌里是在不值一提。
如果 80 年代的复古和奇幻元素是《怪奇物语》最美丽的外衣，那么从《哈利波特》和《指环王》中延续的成长叙述和友情精神则是它最强硬也是最温柔的内核。故事开始于“寻找威尔“，三个在学校被看作怪胎，时常被其他男生霸凌的男孩借用科学课的知识，和他们脑袋里对奇幻世界的无尽幻想，在现实小镇里搜索一个又一个线索， 一路上他们有过犹豫，害怕，恐惧不过在他们十一二岁的世界里，他们四个人的友情撑起了天，少了威尔，这片天则缺了一角。渐渐地，小十一、南茜、乔纳森、史蒂文、马克思等人的加入丰富了他们的友谊网络，让他们在成长路上，不仅学会了如何与心魔和颠倒世界的恶魔抗衡，也学会了在彼此之间认识更清晰的自己，知道自己就算不是篮球队的明星球员或者学校里最受欢迎的学生， 他们认同自己的身份，力量和智慧， 将自己的世界延展至更广阔的世界，不为了其他人而改变自己，而是在自我认同的基础之上，任意成长，蜕变为自己最意想不到却又合乎情理的那个自己。
无论是罗宾最后坦然面对自己情感，史蒂文在与南茜几年的交往中看见自己影子背后那个善良，真诚的自己，还是面对麦克，无法说出心里话却用真心话安抚麦克心悸，爱到妥协的威尔，在与每一场恶魔的斗争和暑假，春假之间，他们慢慢挖掘前所未有的，隐藏在自己内心深处的可能， 逐渐找到“自己命运”这个谜语的最佳答案。也正如达斯汀对卢卡斯所说：“我们就是很奇怪啊”，或许如此，“我们”奇怪并不可怕，可怕的是当你被杂音淹没，惧怕面对最真实的那个自己。在前三季的铺垫之上，第四季的成长线直接切入友谊和成长的痛点——悔恨，这一痛点也直接成为维克那的诱饵，所有心怀悔恨，没有与过去和解的孩子们则是维克那的最佳猎物，马克思便成了他的猎物之一，而当马克思听见凯特·布什的<Running Up That Hill>播放在脑海中时，过去与小十一挑选裙子的画面，与卢卡斯参加舞会的情节，还有第一次与卢卡斯接吻的记忆一一出现在眼前，这些回忆伴随着歌词冲破维克那世界里的层层云雾，为马克思开拓一条回到现实世界的路径。犹如歌词所唱“如果我可以和上帝做个交易”，此时的马克思，甚至所有心有悔恨的少男少女，都希望能和上帝做个交易，让他们回到曾经，填补过去的残缺，但回到现实世界后的马克思才意识到，她其实不需要一首歌拯救自己于黑暗和死亡之中，她所需要的，只是直面曾经，记住现在的每一分每一秒，因为只有彻彻底底地活在现在之中，才能越过悔恨这道劫。
至今，《怪奇物语》中的每一个角色已经逐渐找到自己的所属之地，剧集核心叙事的语调也逐渐从过往几季的少年气逐渐成人化，让孩子们在生命中面临更多选择，大学也好，搬家也好，他们所面临的不仅仅是过往单一的“骑车去你家”的邻家生活，现在的他们站在选择的十字路口，向自己提问道：下一步，该怎么办？未来的生活只会更加困难，在第四季结尾，小十一和麦克以及其他人站在一座小山丘上，看着远方的闪电和乌云席卷着城镇的某个角落，山丘上的部分花草也逐渐枯萎，维克那之后，只会有更难的挑战在等待着这帮孩子们。