The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Netflix’s ‘Stranger Things’ returns
Duffer twins appreciate the success of the series.
LOS ANGELES — One of the first things you notice about the creators of “Stranger Things,” Matt and Ross Duffer, is that they definitely do the twin thing.
They finish each other’s sentences. They switch roles seamlessly, communicate without words. At times, they can seem to share a brain — “that weird telepathic relationship,” as Winona Ryder, a star of the series, described it — because they rarely seem to disagree, at least not vocally. When they write, they do it facing each other and in a shared Google Doc. To me, this seems insane. M. Night Shyamalan, an early mentor and collaborator, affectionately described the phenomenon as like watching a “two-headed creative monster.”
Still, they insist they would never want to isolate themselves in a writing cabin together.
“It could end in a double murder — or just a murder,” Matt said, laughing. “Make sure there are no axes around.”
Judging by the way they worked together here in late March, having two heads was mostly a boon as the deadlines cascaded for Season 4. The new season, the first half of which premieres Friday on Netflix after a three-year wait, still needed a lot of work in postproduction. Netflix hadn’t yet announced that it had been hemorrhaging subscribers all quarter. But there was a sense in the editing suite that a lot was riding on this season of the sci-fi horror drama, which has earned seven Emmys since it debuted in 2016.
During the two days I observed them, the Duffers, who continue to direct, write and oversee “Stranger Things,” had enough on their plates just getting things manageable. The pandemic had already caused significant delays, and the new season is five hours longer than any previous one.
That was the main reason they had decided to release it in two chunks, Ross said. There was just so much material to get through. Demogorgons needed animating. Run times needed tightening.
With episodes like short movies (three of the first four are 75 minutes or more), one might worry that the Duffers have succumbed to excess. For now, they seem content to let the fans decide; Netflix has proved willing to support their expanding vision. Meanwhile, the tone is decidedly shifting this season (think “A Nightmare on Elm Street” and “Hellraiser”), and its young cast has been shaving for at least a few years. (Want to feel old? Caleb Mclaughlin and Sadie Sink are 20.) Plenty can change in three years, including viewer attention. Will fans still flock to “Stranger Things”?
Say this about the Duffers, 38, who as two virtually unknown brothers from North Carolina created one of the biggest pop TV phenomena of the Streaming Age: It hasn’t paid to underestimate them so far.
If the Duffer brothers seemed to come out of nowhere when the now-famous opening sequence of “Stranger Things” first rolled out, that’s because by most measures, they had. They had written a few scripts, directed a few shorts. They had made a feature-length movie, but it never saw theaters.
But if fans know little more about them today than they did six years ago, it’s not for lack of appetite. With few exceptions, the Duffers have kept their press engagement to a minimum. Unlike their teenage cast members — say, Millie Bobby Brown or Gaten Matarazzo — they rarely get stopped on the street.
The Duffer brothers prefer it that way. “There’s a reason we’re behind the camera — that’s where we feel more comfortable,” Ross said over pizzas after a long morning of playbacks and color correction. “We love the part of making a show, the process of making it, and not everything else so much that comes with it,” Matt added.
In 2011, just four years out of film school at Chapman University, in Orange County, California, the brothers sold a script to Warner Bros. for a post-apocalyptic thriller called “Hidden.” Suddenly the Duffers had a real Hollywood budget. “It was this insane situation,” Matt said. “Ross and I are going: ‘Oh, this is the dream. We did it.’”
The film, about a family trapped underground while shadowy creatures roam the surface, establishes themes familiar to any “Stranger Things” fan: a precocious child, government conspiracies, an exploding rat. What the completed film didn’t have, the studio decided, was commercial viability. It went straight to video in 2015.
Matt and Ross thought their short career was over. But then the script made its way to Shyamalan, who was impressed and hired them to write for the Fox puzzle-box drama “Wayward Pines.” His confidence helped get them back on track. “Stranger Things” soon followed.
“A lot of me is really grateful for that, for getting smacked,” Matt said, reflecting back on their experience with “Hidden.” “Because it’s just made me appreciate this so much more and not take it for granted.”
Winona Ryder, who plays Joyce, is candid about what “Stranger Things” has meant for her. “It completely changed my life,” she said by phone.
In Season 4, Joyce, a single mom to Will (Noah Schnapp) and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) who has taken in Eleven (Brown), remains central as they try to start over in Southern California, still mourning the loss of their beloved Hopper (David Harbour). (Fans have known since an early trailer dropped in 2020 that Hopper is alive in a Russian prison camp.)
The role has drawn metatextual power from Ryder’s roles in movies like “Edward Scissorhands,” which were a huge influence on the Duffers. It has also had a powerful impact on her career.
Finn Wolfhard, who plays Mike, said that he had struggled with anxiety. But he said the stable work environment the Duffers had created and maintained had helped him and other cast members immensely.
“When we get on the set, we feel like we’re 12 years old again,” Wolfhard said. “And that is a huge reason, I’m sure, why a lot of us haven’t gone crazy.”
Season 4 will be the show’s second-to-last, which means it has to get the characters and themes well positioned for the denouement. The long COVID-19 delay, which arrived several weeks into shooting, gave the Duffers and their writers plenty of time to figure out where they wanted Season 5 to end. But it also ratcheted up the pressure on a show packed with teenage stars, whose surging hormones and heights place the production on a limited timeline in even the best of situations.
Lucky for them, they had the support of a cast and crew that had come to feel like family. As Sink and Wolfhard pointed out, there were was no one who understood what they had experienced better than the people who had gone through it with them, and the Duffers were at the center.
“They’re our big brothers,” Sink said. “It’s really that kind of relationship. And they’ll always be a huge part of all of our lives because of this.”