Editorials
How “Stranger Things” Shows What’s So Special About ’80s Horror
Netflix’s ‘Stranger Things’ feels like it’s pulled right from the ‘80s and reminds us why that decade is so important to horror
“What are you kids doing with all of this?”
“Monster hunting.”
The Duffer Brothers’ gripping science fiction/horror hybrid on Netflix, Stranger Things, is quickly proving itself to be one of the most compelling television series of 2016, even if it feels like something that’s been seamlessly ripped from the 1980s. Stranger Things chronicles the increasingly bizarre circumstances surrounding a small town in Indiana, but it’s the series willingness to turn into a love letter to ‘80s filmmaking that truly elevates this material to a higher level. While Stranger Things is mandatory viewing for those that are a fan of the ‘80s or otherwise, it also helps bring focus to the larger discussion of why this decade is so special in the first place by examining how the series chooses to implement its specific influences.
The phenomenon of when the ordinary meets the extraordinary is something that the Duffer Brothers show deep fascination with. This effect from watching the mundane mix with the inexplicable results in a glorious feeling of wonder that not only largely defines ‘80s horror, but also Stranger Things itself. The show’s major influences, Stephen King, John Carpenter, and Steven Spielberg also help prove how this series is emblematic of the ‘80s.
Obviously these elements of wonder and the normal meeting the paranormal are present in horror from other decades too, but it’s definitely a characterizing trait of the ‘80s and merely a supporting player elsewhere. ‘90s horror is a deeply cynical beast for instance, with a direction that becomes increasingly meta (Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer, The Craft). ‘80s horror is simpler and purer than that. ’70s horror fare is also a violent breed that’s full of serial killers (Halloween, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Black Christmas), whereas ‘80s horror is dealing more with monsters or terror-next-door threats rather than unknown men in masks. When digging into the parameters of these other decades, you begin to realize just how rare it is that a horror series has an authentic ‘80s influence. It’s something I can barely remember happening before and it causes Stranger Things to come as a breath of fresh thirty-year old air.
Something smart that Stranger Things does right up from the start is that it actually takes place in 1983, so it’s very much steeped in Dungeons & Dragons and comics references from the very world that it’s paying homage (The AV Club saying that the ESP-friendly Eleven is “basically a wizard” is one of many wonderful moments). On top of that, the predominant inspirations that the series pulls from are some of the ‘80s most iconic voices. Stephen King is still a powerhouse of a force even now, but the ‘80s saw the exciting beginning of his career with works like Christine, Firestarter, and Pet Cemetery getting people’s attention. It is a formative book in King’s career from the time period and it’s hard to watch the plucky AV club in their search for Will without thinking of the children in Derry and their camaraderie.
The real connection point feels like King’s Christine, which beautifully melds the ordinary with the extraordinary in the form of a car taking on homicidal tendencies (in this respect, Cujo also qualifies to some degree, too). The “car” for Stranger Things is its Christmas lights, which turn into a vital communication tool for the McBoyd’s missing child. The same reverent awe is placed in both of these everyday objects and the fact that Carpenter also made a film out of it in the ‘80s doubly speaks to its odd importance.
The sensibilities of It and Christine might be the most pertinent of King’s present in Stranger Things, but works from the time period like The Mist, which is present in Skeleton Crew (which also contains Word Processor of the Gods and Uncle Otto’s Truck, both prime examples of imbuing the normal with special properties), are also felt. Stranger Things opens the big can of worms that is alternate dimensions, something that’s crucial to The Mist. The reasons for the rift existing in this show are also largely the same as in King’s short story. The name that the kids colloquially give this alternate dimension, “The Upside Down,” also feels like it’s a term pulled right out of the works of Stephen King or Steven Spielberg. The series even chooses to present itself like a pulpy, yellowed paperback, complete with chapter titles instead of episode names, further capturing the atmosphere of King’s work and novels in general.
King’s works are given proper tribute, but the influence of John Carpenter in the show is another strong indicator of how much this vehicle is a creature of the ‘80s. A huge characterizing trait of this series is its heavy use of a synth score that’s deeply reminiscent of Carpenter’s aesthetic. It establishes the tone almost immediately. Of course another overbearing presence from Carpenter’s oeuvre is The Thing, which sees representation here in the form of the monsters out of “The Upside Down.” The series goes the practical route as much as possible with these otherworldly elements and it makes all the difference in terms of placing you within an era. There’s even a gratuitous shot that lingers on a poster for The Thing in Michael’s bedroom, and then later someone is full-out watching it and explaining how the practical effects for it are done. You know, just in case you missed the clear love letter going on here.
The Fog is another seminal work from Carpenter’s career in the ’80s, with it also being a reflection of the normal meeting the paranormal. Fog is just as innocuous as Christmas lights until it isn’t. Stranger Things also uses its teenage characters to fulfill many of the Carpenter archetypes, wisely using this demographic as a reflection of the victims in his films. Even Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness explores alternate dimensions and monsters from another world, so again all these ‘80s staples are seeing service here.
Lastly, the greatest ‘80s influence of all in the show might be its flawless job at replicating Spielberg’s work from the decade. One of Spielberg’s strongest skills is his ability to pull tremendous performances out of young, budding actors. That same feeling of awe of stumbling upon raw talent is present here as the performances and bond between Michael, Lucas, and Desmond are sublime. The secret, forbidden friendship that these children adopt with Eleven is not unlike Elliot’s connection with E.T., too. There’s also a moment in the series’ seventh episode where a car gets telepathically thrown while the kids are riding their bikes that straight up feels like our modern equivalent of the E.T. “moon bike” sequence. It’s beautiful, powerful, evocative stuff.
And while only a Spielberg-produced vehicle, there’s an overwhelming feeling of The Goonies present as these children embark on a larger than life quest that puts them in very real danger. Just like how the teenage characters tap into the Carpenter aesthetic of the ‘80s, and the adults more closely represent Stephen King’s attitude, the children act as the Spielberg proxy, which ends up becoming the predominant voice in this ménage a trois of muses. To continue to beat upon a reliable drum here, the ordinary meeting the extraordinary is also something that characterizes Spielberg’s work in the ‘80s. Poltergeist’s iconic visual, and one of its most effective scares, is achieved simply through television static. It’s hard to watch Christmas lights with knotted dread and not be reminded of Poltergeist’s eerie set piece.
Even beyond the works of these integral directors, Stranger Things pays respect to other fixtures of the ’80s like Hellraiser, From Beyond, and Re-Animator as the parallel dimension territory is dug into further. As all of this coalesces you’re left with an overwhelming product that screams, cries, and bleeds the ’80s.
As further steam for Stranger Things continues to pick up and you hear more conversations going on about it, remember that the special it factor here is that the series is doing its best impression of a different decade. So many series swing for the supernatural, but so few take such a strong lesson from the masters that came before them. We can only hope that there will be more seasons so we we’ll be able to live in the ‘80s forever.
Horror was permanently changed in 1984 when Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street unleashed Freddy Krueger on the world. This brutal boogeyman pushed horror to exciting new places, but so much of the character’s impact is the result of Robert Englund’s quintessential performance.
Englund has a long and storied career as a performer that’s covered far more than horror alone. However, there’s such a sublime, sinister synergy between Englund and this heightened genre that’s made him one of horror’s most revered names.
Englund is set to scare audiences again as a malevolent reimagining of Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio Unstrung, but he’s also been responsible for many more macabre monsters.
The Cricket (Pinocchio Unstrung)
Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey has somehow spun a morbid experiment in public domain exploitation into its own cinematic universe, the Twisted Childhood Universe. There’s been increasing promise in the TCU’s various films, which has also led to a growing list of capable horror guest stars, such as Roger L. Jackson, Richard Brake, and now Robert Englund. Englund is by far the most impressive name to attach himself to one of these movies, and Pinocchio Unstrung certainly doesn’t squander the opportunity to have him on board as its terrifying take on Jiminy Cricket. Englund’s performance as “The Cricket” in Pinocchio Unstrung becomes a sinister subversion of the classic character who is meant to function as Pinocchio’s conscience and moral compass.
Englund’s Cricket is instead the ultimate instigator who perpetually pushes Pinocchio into greater violence that condemns humanity and its many misgivings, rather than idolizing all the “real boys” in the world. Pinocchio Unstrung is a love letter to practical effects and old-fashioned animatronics and puppetry. This means that Englund just provides the voice for Cricket, but it’s still a deeply sinister performance and one of the most unnerving characters to appear in the Twisted Childhood Universe. Once again, Englund is careful not to just repurpose his Freddy Krueger persona, and he instead develops an original voice that plays into past renditions of the character. There’s a palpable rage and disdain in Englund’s Cricket that turns him into a threatening loose cannon and makes the audience forget that he’s only a few inches tall.
The Phantom of the Opera (The Phantom of the Opera)
The Phantom of the Opera is a foundational horror story that’s still being explored over a century later. 1989’s cinematic adaptation of Gaston Leroux’s 1910 classic doesn’t always get the respect that it deserves, despite it containing one of Englund’s most nuanced horror performances. Directed by Dwight H. Little, who previously helmed the underrated Halloween 4, The Phantom of the Opera operates as a gorier take on Leroux’s source material that feels like a lost Hammer Film picture. The titular Phantom is the perfect role for Englund following A Nightmare on Elm Street, and his participation in the picture was initiated by Englund promising his agent that he’d do another horror project after Elm Street’s success.
Englund was excited to tackle an iconic character who had previously been portrayed by formative horror legends like Herbert Lom, Claude Rains, and Lon Chaney. Englund beautifully fits the mold and is sublime casting for this ‘80s take on the character. Englund taps into a powerful dichotomy between the Phantom’s brutal and tragically sympathetic nature. It’s a role that’s significantly deeper than Freddy Krueger and better explores Englund’s range as an actor, which helps get him away from cheesy one-liners. It also doesn’t hurt that Little concocts a uniquely twisted take on the Phantom’s disfigurement, which was achieved by sewing human skin onto Englund’s face. The modern-day sequences that bookend the film were meant to tie into a planned sequel, The Phantom of the Opera 2: Terror in Manhattan, which unfortunately never came to fruition.
Victor Creel (Stranger Things)
Love it or hate it, Stranger Things assembled some impressive guest stars that took advantage of their respective legacies as ‘80s genre legends, such as Linda Hamilton, Matthew Modine, Cary Elwes, and Robert Englund. Englund’s turn as Victor Creel in the streaming hit’s fourth season is one of the series’ best performances and a role that rises above the mediocrity around it. Victor Creel is an opportunity for Englund to actually subvert expectations and play against type. It’s brilliant casting that initially conditions the audience to be wary of Creel and view him as a frightening threat. This perception is reinforced when Creel is encountered in a psychiatric ward and horrifically blinded.
Creel’s disturbing eye-gouged appearance is revealed to actually be a symptom of his tragic life and the psychological torment he received from Vecna. Creel is hard to look at, but there’s nothing to fear about him. He’s led a sad life that’s filled with inescapable guilt. He’s more like one of Freddy Krueger’s victims than Freddy himself. Englund goes above and beyond as Victor Creel, and the emotional monologues that he delivers are among some of the actor’s best work and proof that Englund’s still got it.
Marquis de Sade (Night Terrors)
Tobe Hooper’s Night Terrors is a particularly forgettable ’90s horror film that faced a litany of production problems and changes that certainly didn’t do it any favors. The story is a mess, even for a Cannon Video production, but it provides the novelty of Englund pulling double duty as the cruel Marquis de Sade and his modern day descendant, Paul Chevalier. Night Terrors banked on the novelty of Hooper directing Englund as one of history’s greatest monsters, and his performance is easily the best thing about this movie.
There’s an unabashed glee to Englund’s work as the Marquis de Sade that’s reminiscent of Freddy Krueger’s twisted jubilation over his creative murders, yet it doesn’t just feel like a carbon copy of Englund’s iconic role. There’s an appreciated degree of restraint going on before the film goes off the rails and incorporates supernatural elements and abstract dream sequences. Chevalier and his modern cult worship the Marquis de Sade as a deity of torture and liberation. The nightmare sequences that involve the Marquis de Sade are the most chilling and make this figure look as frightening on the outside as he is on the inside. There’s enough to latch onto here, even if the film as a whole is a mess, and Englund doesn’t squander the opportunity to play two sides of the same creepy coin.
Scarecrow (Injustice 2)
Robert Englund is no stranger to voiceover work, and he’s voiced his share of macabre and memorable characters over the years. That being said, one of his most inspired roles is the work that he did in NetherRealm’s dark DC Comics-based fighter, Injustice 2, where he plays Jonathan Crane, better known as the Scarecrow. There’s a certain tongue-in-cheek brilliance to having Englund voicing the Batman rogue who is the self-appointed “Master of Fear.” There’s certainly a meta quality to Englund’s casting here, right down to how some of his dialogue explicitly references Freddy Krueger one-liners like “Welcome to your nightmare” and “Now I’m playing with power.”
Englund doesn’t just phone in this performance or replicate his work as Freddy. The actor cultivates a unique voice for Scarecrow that cuts to the core of this character in a menacing manner. Englund’s Scarecrow is raspy, erratic, and honestly one of the better takes on Dr. Crane. It makes one wonder what he’d be able to accomplish if he were playing the part in live-action. He takes a simple role and breathes fresh life into it. Curiously, it’s not his first time playing a Batman villain. He does comparably interesting work as The Riddler in The Batman and the more obscure sorcerer, Felix Faust, in Justice League.
Evil Bloodthirsty Brian (The Hughleys)
There’s a surprising relationship between horror icons and sitcoms, with Robert Englund being no stranger to adding a devious dose of terror to a farcical comedy. Englund shows up as a playful take on Lucifer in Married…with Children, but he also provides a genuinely chilling performance in the first season of The Hughleys. Season one’s “Storm O’ the Century” is centered around the Hughleys and Rogerses getting stranded at a seemingly haunted hotel during an intense blizzard.
“Storm O’ the Century” functions as a proper love letter to horror fans, with genre guest stars that include The Addams Family’s John Astin, The Shining’s Shelley Duvall, and Robert Englund as the comically-named Evil Bloodthirsty Brian. The episode certainly prioritizes its comedy, but it manages to also be legitimately creepy thanks to a locked-in performance by Englund. He’s used sparingly, but always to punctuate a particular scene and function as a jump scare. Evil Bloodthirsty Brian sports a ghastly scar and has a look that’s just frightening enough to be included on a ’90s sitcom. Anyone who is curious about Englund’s performance can check it out for free on Tubi.
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