REVIEW: Overall Thrills of "Stranger Things 2" Are Still In Tact, Despite

When it premiered on Netflix last year, Stranger Things took a lot of people (including yours truly) by surprise. As an affectionate love letter to Eighties pop culture and movies (particularly of the sci-fi, fantasy and horror genres, courtesy Steven Spielberg and Stephen King), series creators Matt and Ross Duffer made a zeitgeist that also stood on its own with compelling stories of small town police chiefs, secretive government agents, a broken family looking for a lost boy, friends who stand up to bullies, and an unusual girl with telekinetic abilities named Eleven.

Since the teaser  for Season Two premiered during the Super Bowl earlier this year, I've eagerly been awaiting to see what would be in store for Chief Hopper, Joyce Byers, Mike Wheeler and company. When it finally premiered last month, I did something that I never do. (And I mean never.) I binge-watched the entire season within 27 hours!

A few questions I had, between both seasons, were as follows: What is that big thing Will begins seeing that's coming into Hawkins? (The 2017 Comic-Con trailer finds Hopper stating, "Whatever's happening is spreading to this place.") Speaking of Hopper, what deal did he make with the agents? And finally, what happened to Eleven?

Millie Bobbie Brown does return as Eleven. And she still loves Eggos.

WRITER'S NOTE: I will try to be as spoiler-free as possible, especially for fans who haven't seen this season yet.

Set one year after the events of Season One, Upside Down-survivor Will Byers begins having premonitions of not only said place, but also of an impending evil force in the sleepy town of Hawkins, Indiana. And, of course, the same cast of characters, plus new ones like Radioshack owner Bob (Sean Astin), high-score arcader Max (Sadie Sink), and some unexpected allies try to figure out what's going on, along with mysteries behind rotting pumpkin patches, government conspiracies, telepathic connections, some gender theories, and why nougat is a popular Halloween candy. (Okay, maybe not so much that last one.)

A few things this season does are completely unexpected. Besides the "One Year Later" notion, Eleven (the amazing Millie Bobby Brown) does return--the trailers make that very clear. This time, she sports Sigourney Weaver-like hair! Plus, she and Will (who was barely in the first season) seem to switch roles, in terms of being around the three main kids/friends, Mike (Finn Wolfhard, whose screen time this season seems like Michael Keaton's in Batman Returns), Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) and Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin). Speaking of Dustin and Lucas, we do get to see their home lives and family lives as well.

And of course, since this series is set in the Eighties, I went gaga for the countless nostalgia and homages on display. First and foremost, the Ghostbusters costumes that Mike and friends wear for Halloween, complete with specially-made "proton packs," are a stroke of genius, including the dialogue where Mike and Lucas banter and argue about who should be Venkman and who should be Winston. Also, the residue Hopper and others find in the woods could echo that scene in the original movie, in the library and possibly the famous Slimer ghost. Speaking of residue, there are echoes of many creature features as Gremlins, Aliens, The Mist, and even Evil Dead, what with shocking revelations, more creatures, more menace, and more action and effects, including the aforementioned creature Will begins seeing, known as the "Shadow Monster" (or, in "Dungeons & Dragons" terms, the Mind Flayer"). Plus, classic arcade games like "Dragon's Lair" get some screen time, as does Eleven's favorite food, Eggos, Dustin's favorite, Three Musketeers (nougat, anybody?), and JVC tape recorders and adapters. Finally, with Sean Astin's appearance, there should be a reference or two to his famous role in The Goonies. (Why wouldn't there be in the Eighties, after all?)

Who you gonna call? (l-r) Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), Mike (Finn Wolfhard),
Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin), and Will (Noah Schnapp)

This season does seem a little conventional in terms of some of the writing and execution. Perhaps it tries to do too much? Perhaps the playlist of popular songs is a bit much? Perhaps there's a little too much emphasis on different love triangles and relationship statuses, not to mention a disappointing bit of sexual tension between some of these characters? Well, it kind of is from the first three episodes. (That KFC reference sure felt like a product plug.) After that, though, things start getting back on track. One thing that sticks out from the first episode, though, is the opening segment, three nights before Halloween, where a group of vigilante punks are on a hit-and-run police chase a la The Dark Knight-meets-Blade Runner-meets-Mad Max, until things take a different turn--and a possible connection to a certain character.

As far as the status of the show's returning characters, what I will say is they do explore different sides of themselves. (One episode, in particular, takes a radical departure from the overall tone of the series--a deliberate choice by the Duffers.) Again, Eleven does return, but not in the way most fans would think. There are some children here, particularly newcomers Billy (Power Rangers' Dacre Montgomery) and step-sister Max (The Glass Castle's Sadie Sink), affected by divorce, and who show more than explain who they take their anger and frustration out on. But there's uncertainty about other characters, such as Bob (considering a story he tells Will about facing his fears) and new Hawkins' Lab head Dr. Owens (who seems to echo a famous role of the actor who plays him, Paul Reiser, from Aliens), what with his surveillance and apparent cover ups of past mistakes.

Many other characters face post-traumatic stress, including Nancy (over her friend, Barb), Mike (over Eleven, whom he still radios via walkie-talkie everyday), and, of course, certainly Will, who never feels the same, not to mention "normal," after being in the Upside Down. But his brother Jonathan reassures that ("Nobody normal ever accomplished anything in this world"), as does his mom, Joyce ("This is not a normal family," she tells Bob). Mr. Clark, the Hawkins science teacher and A.V. supervisor, mentions "The American Crowbar Case" of Phineas Gage, the story of a man who survived a head injury and appeared normal afterwards but not so, mentally.

Something new is coming to Hawkins

Everybody tries to live normal lives, but nothing feels right. As Hopper says, "Nothing's going to go back to the way it was. Not really." At the same time, because these characters are confronted by aforementioned past mistakes, they either seek to leave them, hide them, burn them (like the lab agents do; don't ask), face them, or, in one case, expose them. In any of these cases, it's intriguing to see the many ways these characters communicate without words, whether through T.V.s, radios, drawings, Morse Code (again, don't ask), and RadioShack recorder. Ultimately, these stories of outcasts and adolescence still speak strong, despite being in a sci-fi/horror mesh of a world.

This season does suffer from a case of "sequel-itis" at times (meaning, "more is better"), as well as some less witty (and more profane) dialogue. Eleven's vocabulary, for one, includes a new vulgarity. I do also think the season kind of plays it safe at times and rushes just a tad without some serious conflict, despite the overall atmosphere--darker and more intense, especially with the "Demo-dogs" and the overarching Shadow Monster. (Chapter Seven has some particularly graphic images, including one they really didn't need to show.) But the Duffer Brothers sure know how to pack an emotional and cliffhanging punch, not to mention unexpected twists. Here's to whatever they come up with for Season 3.

$UCCESSFU! FILMS SERIES: What "The Hobbit" Films Should and Should Not Have Done

When author J.R.R. Tolkien wrote "The Hobbit" in the 1930s, he had written it as a fantasy adventure for his children. Little did he know that it would not only set the stage for other characters and stories in his created world of "Middle-Earth" (notably "The Lord of the Rings" and the posthumous "The Silmarillion"), but it also established a contemporary mythology that would echo stories, legends, and character types of yesteryear.

When director Peter Jackson began adapting the Lord of the Rings in the late 1990s, he and his cast and crew embarked on what would turn out to be a seven-year journey to bring Tolkien's literary trilogy to the big screen. Little did they know that it would not only set a benchmark in film history (no trilogy had ever been filmed simultaneously, and no fantasy film had ever won the Best Picture Acdemy Award), but it also set the stage for fantasy films of the 21st Century. (Harry Potter and The Chronicles of Narnia, anyone?)

After Rings, Jackson went on to direct and co-produce other projects, including his lifelong-dream remake of King Kong (2005), an adaptation of Alice Sebold's novel The Lovely Bones (2009), Neill Blomkamp's sci-fi apartheid directorial debut District 9 (2009), and Steven Spielberg's motion-capture take on Herge's The Adventures of Tintin (2011). In the mean time, Jackson's visual effects company Weta Digital participated in various other films, including the rebooted Planet of the Apes trilogy (2011-2017), Furious 7 (2015), Krampus (2015), and Pete's Dragon (2016).

Peter Jackson behind the scenes

Then in 2010, after initial helmer Guillermo del Toro (2006's Pan's Labyrinth) stepped down due to reported production delays, Jackson took over directing reigns of the long-awaited big-screen adaptation of The Hobbit. Initially planned to be made into two movies, Jackson brought in many of the same crew from Lord of the Rings, including co-writers and co-producers Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens, production designer Dan Hannah, cinematographer Andrew Lesnie, conceptual artists Alan Lee and John Howe, composer Howard Shore, and head of Weta Workshop Richard Taylor. Del Toro would remain credited as a project consultant. Returning cast members would included Ian Holm (Bilbo Baggins), Elijah Wood (Frodo Baggins), Hugo Weaving (Elrond), Cate Blanchett (Galadriel), Christopher Lee (Saraman), Ian McKellan (Gandalf), and Andy Serkis (Gollum, who steals the iconic "Riddles in the Dark" sequence), while newcomers Martin Freeman (a younger Bilbo) and Richard Armitage (Thorin) would join in. Serkis would eventually serve as the project's Second Unit Director.

Jackson, Walsh and Boyens' contributions to the screenplay partly came from appendices of The Lord of the Rings, which expand Tolkien's Middle-Earth. The backstory of the dwarves, and their once-glorious kingdom under the mountain, are used as a prologue to the first Hobbit film, titled An Unexpected Journey. It not only showcases their greed and obsession with gold, but also the effects it has on the local people of Dale, as well as other races. Jealousy and destruction soon appear in the form of the dragon Smaug, who decimates the town of Dale and leads to the downfall of the race of dwarves. Their mission in Tolkien's story and in this film: to take back the fallen kingdom. But to do this impossible task, they will need some help--particularly, a burglar to sneak in.

Which leads us to Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit who finds comfort and safety in his home in the ground, and is not motivated by adventures of any kind. At least until the great wizard Gandalf comes knocking on his door, followed by thirteen mighty dwarves, and convinces him to take the journey. (It's curious but sort of understandable that only half of these dwarves, led by Thorin, are given more screen time and development than the rest of the supposedly-caricatured bunch.) At the same time, there's a greater, darker power resurfacing in Middle-earth than just Smaug, beginning with the mysterious Necromancer, as investigated by the eccentric wizard Radagast.

The overall moral in this story is that adventure is not found in the comforts of home, but out there in the world. To be sure, danger is inevitable, but courage and bravery are necessary. Therefore, facing the world and seeing what one is really made of, and yet recognizing where one comes from. "Home is now behind you," Gandalf tells us. "The world is ahead."

My initial reaction to An Unexpected Journey was that it was entertaining, well-made, and had terrific nostalgia and homages to the original film trilogy. It was also impeccably cast, with Martin, Armitage and McCoy as standouts, followed by Evans and Cumberbatch (who perfectly and chillingly voices Smaug) in the second and third films. And Lee turned in what would turn out to be his last screen role, reprising Saruman.

Yet, despite being based on essentially a children's novel, Jackson had no interest in making a film strictly for children. This is one of the many choices and changes that makes the film quite dark and violent. And the other two films in this now-trilogy (2013's The Desolation of Smaug and 2014's The Battle of the Five Armies) prove this point, as well as with many significant liberties and and connections more to Jackson's original film trilogy than to Tolkien's original book. Little did Jackson and company (and moviegoers) know that the overall reception for this trilogy would be lukewarm, to say the least.

When The Desolation of Smaug came out, I began to loose faith in these films. For one thing, Weta Digital certainly went to great lengths to make knock-out visual effects sequences, and there are certainly worthy moments and meaningful themes at times, such as the impressive animation of Smaug and the designs of Laketown and the halls of Erebor. But they're upstaged by the aforementioned (and prolonged) sequences and VFX shots, not to mention an "unexpected" and sudden climax to the chapter. I had hopes that the third film (originally titled "There and Back Again," like the original subtitle of the book) would deliver a more satisfying outing. And yet, when film three did arrive (and with a new title, The Battle of the Five Armies), the result was initially a forgettable experience (in the book, the battle lasts one chapter, whereas in the film, it's nearly 45 minutes), and proved that this "prequel trilogy" was slowly-but-surely declining, and surely divisive. Jackson admitted that the Hobbit trilogy's lukewarm reception was partially due to him coming so late into pre-production with only three months to plan. (Compare that to the reported three years Jackson and company spent preparing the Lord of the Rings trilogy).

That's not to say The Hobbit was a terrific experience, as the "Production Diaries" filmed between 2011 and 2012 in New Zealand showcased. These videos are, without a doubt, the highlight of the making of these films, as well as an amazing transition into a new decade for Tolkien's stories and epic fantasy worlds.

To be fair, Jackson felt he had made the right choice to expand the story into a trilogy in order to, by request to the studios (New Line and MGM), plan out the climactic "battle." I recently viewed all three films (almost) back-to-back and now believe that Five Armies is actually an emotionally-effecting, though at times overbearing, conclusion to Tolkien's classic. What these films could have used was a little old-fashioned restraint.

Here are four things that I would have eliminated or reduced, and which would've resulted in two films instead of three.

1. The villainous orc Azog. They should've eliminated the climax of An Unexpected Journey and saved that for The Battle of the Five Armies for Thorin to have a proper face-off with this vengeful adversary, whereas the gang would've transitioned better from the goblin tunnels to Beorn's house. (Although, Bilbo's bravery is commendable and amazing in the resulted sequence.)

2. Speaking of sequences, the barrel escape from Mirkwood definitely has roller coaster thrills, but the elves (including Legolas) and the orcs intervening and fighting should've been left out. The same goes for the aforementioned goblin tunnel chase, the spiders of Mirkwood (which seem more swarmy compared with the nightmarish Shelob), and the other armies and prolonged fights in the climactic Battle, what with the Tremors-like"earth eaters," bats, an icy lake, and a Legolas/orc battle that defies gravity. And then there's the length of the hall fight with Smaug--although, the focus of this sequence was the dwarves' attempt to kill the beast. (The buildup to this character's presence is effective, but it soon outstays its welcome.)

Gollum (top) and Smaug (bottom) are motion-capture marvels

3. The romance between dwarf Kili and elf Tauriel (a character made for the movies, due to an apparent lack of female characters in Tolkien's novels), as well as a subtle love triangle involving Legolas the elf (who is not in "The Hobbit" book); the same goes for the subtle romance between Gandalf and Lady Galadriel. If they had made Tauriel a companion to the dwarves and not so much a love interest, that would've been stronger and less forced.

4. The emphasis on the subplot about the darkness resurfacing in Middle-Earth, which results in Sauron, causes the same mistake that George Lucas's Star Wars prequel trilogy made: Said subplot tells you what happens in the original trilogy, and you loose the excitement in chronological order. The shifts that An Unexpected Journey makes midway through (and which Desolation does a lot) distract from what should be the primary story--that of Bilbo Baggins and his quest with the Dwarves, as well as the impact the quest has on Middle-Earth. If this latter subplot would've been the sole one (plus the theme of "dragon sickness" and not so much the Ring's growing power over Bilbo), then the films would've been a whole lot better.

As movies on their own, they're entertaining in many ways. But compared with the book, they're completely different. Unlike the original trilogy, which began with miniature sets and grounded visual effects, these films use CGI extensively; they're easily fake in such settings as Dol Guldur and the Elven city in Mirkwood. It even got to the point where Ian McKellan wasn't acting alongside the other actors for much of the time, instead of with the "forced perspective" technique they used for The Fellowship of the Ring. The overall production design is spectacular and very Tolkien-esque, from Rivendale to the goblin tunnels to Laketown to Erebor to the ruins of Dale to the illustrated credits. But the effect (and some of the humor) is far from it--overbearing, dark, menacing, and violent.

At least Tolkien's themes are still intact and remain strong, including a misguided sense of loss, and the cost of greed, war and destruction. And filmgoers can't go wrong with the "Song of the Lonely Mountain," a motif throughout the first film that should've resurfaced in the other films. This is, after all, the emotional arc of the dwarves and their journey. It's fair to say Jackson has (hopefully) learned from the mistakes of these films, and will hopefully carry that into his next project, whether the next Tintin or whichever project that may be. As for Tolkien's original works, they will remain timeless and definitive.

A great, quiet moment between Bilbo and Gandalf