‘Stranger Things’ Deserved a Killer Ending, But The Duffer Brothers Wussed Out

For nearly a decade, Stranger Things was more than simply just a Netflix hit; it was a pop culture phenomenon. Fans mourned the loss of Barb, collected character Funkos, and donned Hellfire Club t-shirts in their day-to-day lives. They binged whole seasons over and over again, looking out for Easter eggs and treating the likes of Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown), Mike (Finn Wolfhard), Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin), and Will (Noah Schnapp) like their real friends. Stranger Things redefined what a Netflix hit could be, from its humble start to its bloated two-hour-long New Year’s Eve crashing grand finale.

**Spoilers for Stranger Things Season 5 Episode 8 “The Rightside Up,” now streaming on Netflix**

If you stuck with Stranger Things all the way to the end, you’ll know that creators Matt and Ross Duffer left the fate of Eleven in their audience’s hands. Even though El appears to sacrifice herself in the Upside Down, Mike later weaves a tale for his friends that explains how Kali (Linnea Berthelsen) used her powers to save her sister, who then escaped through the tunnels under Hawkins and is now living in a idyllic Icelandic town. Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Max (Sadie Sink) all tearfully agree they “believe” this happy ending, giving fans of all ages the option to embrace this fairy tale as canon or…not*.

The Duffer Brothers chickened out of a definitive ending for Eleven, just like how they never committed to a single inventive idea during the whole show’s run. From the jump, Stranger Things was an homage to Stephen King’s It, Steven Spielberg’s Amblin films, and every 1980s trope Gen Xers feel the fuzziest feelings of nostalgia for. Characters themselves reference Star Wars, John Hughes’s hits, and popular radio hits throughout the show’s run. Everything in Stranger Things, from Kali’s name connecting to the Hindu goddess of death to the ubiquitous Dungeons & Dragons lifts, is a reference to something else.

The one real opportunity that the Duffers had to express themselves, to present a world view beyond their yearning for the simple pleasures of their suburban American childhoods, was biffed. If they chose to kill Eleven off and let it stick, they would have pissed off legions of soft-hearted fans, but also proven they had the guts to kill their darlings. If they had physically brought Eleven back at the end — safe, sound, and reunited with her friends — they would have revealed themselves as gutless people pleasers, incapable of backing up the show’s high stakes with any repercussions for the characters.

So they did something even more cowardly. They refused to make the call at all.

I have a feeling that the Duffer Brothers probably thought their solution to this conundrum was pretty clever. Letting viewers decide for themselves if Eleven lived or died affords them the same kind of impenetrable armor they gave all their characters in the final season. You can’t be criticized for a creative choice if you refuse to make one! But that, in and of itself, is the Duffers’ hallmark. They don’t have any original ideas, let alone the conviction to express them.

When I rewatched all of Stranger Things ahead of the final season, I initially thought the show became a massive hit in spite of its creators’ lack of creativity. I figured that the incredibly charming cast was what kept me engaged, making casting director Carmen Cuba the real genius behind the show’s success. However, now that I’ve sat through the show’s smugly ambiguous ending, I know that Stranger Things was a hit because of the Duffer Brothers’s utter banality.

Stranger Things is a show that coddles its audience. All of its references are obvious, familiar, and easy to recognize. The characters neatly fit into classic tropes. Blood-thirsty monsters are easily defeated by the power of friends working together. Watching Stranger Things is as cozy as cuddling under a hand-knit blanket, which is why so many people loved it. It wasn’t a challenging work of art, but a remix of the greatest pop culture hits of past.

Ultimately, the Duffer Brothers were perfect content creators for the Netflix algorithm. They served the streamer’s global audience a show that blended everyone’s favorite films together into a binge-able, easy to digest package. What they didn’t do, though, was create art. Like AI, they stole the best ideas from real artists, cobbling these influences together into the most palatable, inoffensive package possible. No wonder there’s going to be a spin-off.

In a post-mortem interview with The Hollywood Reporter, the Duffers were asked if they believe Mike’s version of Eleven’s fate. “I don’t know if we want to say,” Ross Duffer said. “I worry if I say it, it might take away. We really want the audience to take from it what they want.”

Stranger Things‘s finale was so uninspired, its creators couldn’t be bothered to commit to Eleven’s ultimate fate. They just wanted the audience to make the decision for them.

*I personally believe Mike’s version of events is a fiction he created to fulfill his promise to Eleven to help their friends “understand” her decision. It would be incredibly out of character for El to survive and never contact her friends. She’s dead.