I can’t stop thinking about the finale of Stranger Things. As a fan of the show, I’ve made peace with it. As a lover of story and story-making, I’m still fascinated with the choices that were made, and puzzling over the reactions they elicited. (If you haven’t finished Stranger Things and plan to, maybe save this read for another time.)
I saw trouble coming. How could the anticipation for this finale not fly out of control? Season 4 was so good, so well-constructed, and the ending—a beautiful balance of tragedy and triumph, mystery and illumination. In the months that followed, wild and disparate theories about what might happen and cryptic cast interviews just fanned the flames of frenzy. Add to that some very clever distribution decisions—delivering episodes bit by bit throughout the holiday season—my expectations spiraled. I felt like some magic, secret Santa had come to give us special prizes just for surviving this miserable year. Poor Duffers, with hopes flying so high, there is no way they could have pleased us all.
In terms of resolution, some viewers expected nothing less than a bloodbath. Most of us wanted answers. Some wanted one more horrifying twist so badly they invented a secret 9th episode—Conformity Gate. I admit it—I tuned in just to be sure I wasn’t missing out. What a brilliant formal innovation that would have been, to use the streaming platform itself to hide one final surprise. I think all expect a future show to try that out sometime soon.
How about that Denouement?
While watching the actual climax of Stranger Things, I noticed with some trepidation that nearly 55 minutes of air time remained. Like so many others, I braced for a terrifying turn. But instead of more plot twists and an even bigger climax, the Duffers gave us an extra long denouement.
Here’s where they won me over. Denouement is such an underrated and necessary tool of storytelling. It’s so much more than happily ever after. Denouement is for sorting and mending. It’s for a bit of fanfare and a sigh of relief. It offers stillness and space for the big insights to bloom. It gives respite for the characters left standing, or sometimes justice, retribution—the righting of wrongs, restoring of balance. A big climax can rock your world, while denouement holds your hand, walks you to the door, and gives you a little more love before you leave the story and return to your life. And when it’s done very well, it feels like a gift. A chance to farewell a beloved story, its world, and the characters within. Denouement offers a little more time to say a proper goodbye.
The Duffers’ denouement included loss, little victories, celebrations, and grief. It gave us well-earned unions and bittersweet partings. It tied up some loose ends, and left some others dangling. The ending was about sacrifice and survival and continuing on in hope. And finally, the finale left us with a what-if or two. I loved the ambiguity and I’m glad all of that wasn’t undermined by one more turn. As for what wasn’t there, I noticed, but I also see what the Duffers gave us—an ending that honors their characters, and as a whole, a great journey that ended with some lovely parting gifts.
Noelle Beverly writes poetry and prose, supports local writers in the surrounding community, and is a member of the BACCA Literary group. Photos by the author.
BACCA Literary 