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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.

Brenner devoured by the monster, or did he and his wondrous hair escape? 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. Maybe we'd all be better if this was a one-and-doner: Trying to replicate the cozy vibes of , 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. (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.

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 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.

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 , a 1983 Nickelodeon movie that scared the heck out of me).

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. (I doubt it.) Was Matthew Modine's dapper mastermind Dr. went the "Pine Barrens" route, forever leaving us to wonder who might be out in the woods—and if they'll ever come back.

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?

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 , 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.