Just strange enough

Hey, just a friendly heads-up: Netflix’s newest mandatory bingewatch is Stranger Things. It’s a double-barreled blast of ’80s nostalgia that nods to nearly every scifi/horror property of the past 40 years, from The Twilight Zone to Under the Skin and more.

The setup is very Twin Peaks: When a young boy disappears, we’re introduced to the seemingly disparate residents of a small town. Viewers are plunged into an electrifying investigation into a web of unexplainable phenomena, shadowy government conspiracies and psychokinetic children.

Fans of Steven Spielberg, particularly E.T., will appreciate the expert mixture of dread, wonder, humor and pathos. Fans of John Carpenter will love the supernatural effects and excellent synthesizer score. Fans who remember the real ’80s—something far removed from the Day-Glo nightmare version often pushed by films and TV—will fall in love with the production design bathed in muted oranges, greens and browns.

The acting is on point as well: David Harbour as the tormented, pill-chewing small-town police chief with a heart of gold, Winona Ryder (crushing it) as the missing boy’s increasingly unhinged mother, and some of the most charming kids I’ve ever seen on screen.

The series is told across eight 45-minute long episodes—perfectly portioned for consuming in a weekend.