"Stranger Things 5 - Vol. 2 & Finale" - Review

The final chapters of Stranger Things arrive with enormous expectations. Yet somewhere along the way, the show seems to have lost sight of what made people fall in love with it in the first place.

Written by Giorgia Cattaneo

For years, Stranger Things has stood as one of the defining television shows of the streaming era. While the series is often associated with its nostalgic 80s aesthetic and supernatural elements, what truly made it resonate with audiences is something simpler: its characters and their relationships. Hawkins once felt like a place where real people lived, where the ordinary and the extraordinary, the everyday life and the mystery complemented each other. This is precisely why this final season feels so strangely disconnected from the original spirit of the show.

Note: Spoilers ahead!

Spectacle Over Storytelling: The Cost of Fan Service

One of the most evident issues with Stranger Things 5 is its clear focus on spectacle at the expense of writing and storytelling. The production design, the use of CGI and the large-scale action sequences are undeniably impressive. But were they truly necessary? After ten years, what the audience arguably needed most was not a bigger spectacle but meaningful closure to the arcs carefully developed over the years, with every piece of the puzzle finally falling into place. In the early seasons, the mystery surrounding Will’s (Noah Schnapp) disappearance, Joyce’s (Winona Ryder) desperate attempts to reach her son, and the children’s friendship all formed the emotional core of the story. Even the analogue-style cinematography, which gave the series a tactile, nostalgic quality, helped ground its more fantastical elements, making the extraordinary events feel strangely believable. In this final chapter, the story has grown louder, but in doing so, it has sacrificed much of its human heart. 

Despite the season’s numerous events, no major character truly faces lasting consequences, a choice that feels oddly “safe”. Scenes are often staged to suggest irreversible danger, yet the narrative pulls back before anything permanent happens. Even Max (Sadie Sink), who comes close to death multiple times, somehow fully recovers by the end. Steve’s (Joe Keery) apparent near-death moment functions less as a genuine narrative risk and more as fan service, aware of how beloved the character is among viewers. Storytelling should not be dictated by fandom expectations, especially in a series the creators claimed had been largely planned from the very beginning. This reliance on fan service becomes particularly noticeable in the treatment of certain characters: Eddie (Joseph Quinn), for instance, continues to be referenced multiple times this season after his death, seemingly because of his popularity among the audience.

Eleven’s Denied Fate

And yet, as shocking as it is, the one character who does not receive a happy ending is the most important of all: Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown). Her fate feels not only unnecessarily cruel but also strangely disconnected from the story built over five seasons. Eleven has spent her entire life being abused, experimented on, and treated as less than human. The narrative had long seemed committed to humanising her, allowing her to imagine a life beyond the laboratory, to form relationships, and even to experience love. The finale abruptly contradicts that journey. Instead of finally granting her peace alongside the only people who have ever truly cared for her, the show isolates her once again, suggesting she cannot exist within the normal world she fought so hard to save. What is even more striking is that no character other than Mike (Finn Wolfhard) seems genuinely invested in her fate — most of them appeared far more concerned with Eddie, who was only around for a season and had very few deep connections to the group. Meanwhile, Eleven’s relationships with her friends feel notably diminished: she spends most of the season with Hopper (David Harbour) and Kali (Linnea Berthelsen), while her bond with Max — supposedly her best friend — and the rest of the group is almost ignored. Even Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower) seems to forget her, focusing instead on Will. But wasn’t his primary goal in Season 4 to destroy her, his only equally powerful opponent?

Stranger Things has always been about friendship and outsiders: the misfits, the bullied, those who never quite fit in. The series repeatedly suggests that these “losers” can find belonging through one another. Yet in the end, the most marginalised character of all, the girl who never had a normal childhood and who fought harder than anyone else, is the one denied that belonging. Especially if the ending was meant to provide a fairy-tale-like return to normalcy for everyone else, it becomes difficult to understand why Eleven alone is denied that resolution.

Will and Vecna: A Missed Opportunity

The series has repeatedly emphasised Will’s connection to Vecna, particularly this season, revealing that some of Will’s abilities stem from that bond. Earlier seasons established that harm to the hive mind physically affects Will, proving that his link to the Upside Down is both psychological and physical. However, in the Finale, as Vecna is defeated and the Mind Flayer collapses, Will remains completely unaffected. This sudden absence of consequence once again undermines a critical narrative thread, which conveniently disappears the moment it becomes inconvenient for the plot.

Much about Will and Vecna’s relationship remains unexplored. For example, what Vecna shows Will when he takes control of his mind is only mentioned in a brief conversation with Joyce rather than depicted on screen, bypassing a fundamental rule of visual storytelling: show, don’t tell. The psychological dimension — Vecna’s memories and the mental manipulation of his victims — also held enormous potential. For instance, the high school theatrical play featured in the finale, which Eleven, Max and Kali enter within Vecna’s mind, occurs on the same day that Will is later kidnapped. This parallel could have served as a fascinating bridge between past and present, yet it is treated as a mere coincidence. The show never addresses the significance of the timing or the shared high school history of the adult characters. These mental and historical connections constitute rich narrative material largely ignored, leaving the most interesting aspects of the Upside Down underdeveloped and, ultimately, superficial.

Vickie’s Erasure

The treatment reserved to Robin (Maya Hawke) and Vickie (Amybeth McNulty) is another example of the season’s inconsistent writing. Much of their screen time together builds toward a dinner at Enzo’s, a detail repeatedly referenced in earlier episodes. Yet while Joyce and Hopper receive their grand proposal at that very restaurant, Robin and Vickie’s long-anticipated date is never even acknowledged. We don’t even know whether they are still together, despite a 40-minute epilogue that certainly had enough time to address it. Even more frustrating is how Vickie, after following the group through the final mission, simply vanishes from the narrative without explanation. It is particularly hard to ignore that the show’s only explicitly queer storyline is the one abruptly sidelined, especially when homosexuality had been a consistent theme throughout the season. Still, Vickie leaves an impression, thanks to Amybeth McNulty’s presence and charisma.

The Upside Down: Rules and Inconsistencies

The rules of the Upside Down, once carefully established, have become increasingly flexible and inconsistent. The vines that could previously detect any movement suddenly pose no threat, and the toxic atmosphere no longer affects anyone. The show confirms that the Upside Down is a barren wasteland with no water — a detail explicitly referenced this season when Eleven sees the soldier urinating against the Wall, and earlier in Season 4 when Steve, Nancy (Natalia Dyer), Eddie and Robin dive into what turns out to be a completely dry lake bed. So, how is Eleven in a water-filled bathtub in the laboratory? Where did that water come from? And where were the swarms of creatures and monsters — Demogorgons, Demodogs, and the Demobats that killed Eddie — during the final battle?

In the real world, the storyline involving Dr. Kay (Linda Hamilton) and the military government ultimately leads nowhere, being entirely absent from the epilogue. Hopper casually returns to his role as Hawkins’ sheriff as if he had not been presumed dead, escaped a Russian prison, and killed several people in the process. It is as if the writers simply stopped caring about the consequences they themselves had established. While Dr. Kay functions as a mere substitute for the late Dr. Brenner (Matthew Modine) — perhaps reflecting a regret over his death in Season 4 — Kali’s comeback, the supposed twist of Volume 1, serves little purpose beyond informing Eleven of the government’s intentions and foreshadowing a potential shared destiny. Her death is quickly brushed aside by the narrative, confirming her return was not planned in advance in the series but rather inserted at the last minute in this season.

Even the role of music, previously a core narrative device, becomes inconsistent. While escaping the Upside Down, Max tells Holly that music is not strictly required to leave the place, undermining the lore previously built around songs and their associations with the characters trapped by Vecna — Should I Stay or Should I Go with Will, Running Up That Hill with Max — and effectively discarding Season 4’s main narrative function.

The result is a series of unanswered questions. What about the pregnant women? No one seems to care about them; they seemingly just explode along with the Upside Down. How was the military base even constructed there, and why was it never attacked by Vecna in the first place? What exactly was the dissolving room where Nancy and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) were trapped, and why did it suddenly solidify just in time for them to survive? And why didn’t the bridge explode when Nancy fired her gun?

Stranger Things has always been defined by its attention to detail: a carefully structured universe, emotionally grounded characters, brilliant 80s references — many of which I explored in my review of Volume 1 — all reflecting the meticulous work behind the scenes. Precisely because those foundations were so strong, the direction taken in this final season creates a growing sense of loss and frustration. In Stranger Things 5, many elements almost feel randomly assembled, and the open ending comes across more as an easy way out than a deliberate creative choice. The Duffer Brothers seem to have been more interested in expanding their show’s mythology than in honouring their core characters or resolving the storylines built over previous seasons. In a final season with so many open threads, this is a risk the series simply cannot afford. These final chapters should have provided resolution; instead, they often raise new questions. Holly Wheeler ends up with more screen time than Mike, the group’s original leader. We never even see a single scene with the “main six” — Mike, Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), Will, Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin), Eleven, Max — alone together. At this stage, fans didn’t want new characters; they wanted closure for the ones they had followed and loved for years. The real tragedy is that the season still contains genuinely good ideas and moments of emotional resonance. The relationship between Steve and Dustin remains the show’s heart, concluding with the intensity it deserved. Max and Lucas also deliver some of the most moving moments. And credit to Jamie Campbell Bower as Vecna, who delivers the strongest performance of the season. Yet the central thread that once held the series together, as the final credit rolls to David Bowie’s Heroes, is largely lost.

After three years of waiting and with an astronomical budget, it’s difficult as a fan not to feel disappointed and unsatisfied. In the end, it seems that The Duffer Brothers have misunderstood their own show and its characters, a reminder that success and growing audience expectations can compromise even the clearest artistic vision.

I will always hold this series close to my heart. But from now on, every rewatch will end with Season 4.

The entire Stranger Things series is now available to stream on Netflix.

Comments