In its last season, Stranger Things goes epic but loses something essential

Photo: Netflix

This review contains spoilers for the final season of Stranger Things.

When Stranger Things first debuted in July 2016, Netflix was only beginning to expand its original programming slate. The streaming service had its share of hits, but no one could have predicted how big this series would be. Fast-forward almost a decade later and Netflix firmly has the mantle of #1 streamer, releasing a staggering amount of TV programs a year. Through it all, Stranger Things remains their most popular show.

Through a blend of 80s nostalgia, fun characters, and an intriguing supernatural story, the series ascended to pop culture phenomenon status. It stands as one of the last remaining pieces of the American monoculture. A property that everyone has at least heard about. The finale sold out movie theaters, something unheard of for a TV program. Along the way, Stranger Things expanded its scope, including body horror, evil Russians, and putting a face on its supernatural beasts with Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower). While the plot would occasionally sag under the weight of these additions, the characters and our investment in them would carry us through. At least it used to. With this final season, Stranger Things tries out a new emotion: tedium.

The series has always been a fan of the “character explains the situation with a fun metaphor” method of exposition, but there is a limit to that charm. At least once an episode this season we get a scene of someone hatching a plan and explaining it to everyone else. Sometimes we get multiple! That’s before we get into the many scenes of characters repeating information the viewer already knows. Overall, it feels as if the talking-to-doing ratio is heavily skewed in one direction. It doesn’t help that a lot of that “doing” feels like it only incrementally shifts the plot along.

The plot, such as it is, follows our ever-expanding cast of heroes as they attempt to stop Vecna from merging our world with another. You see, the Upside Down — the spooky realm that has served as the backdrop for all horrors in this series. That place is merely a bridge between our world and another. To gain the power necessary for this, Vecna needs to capture twelve kids. Why twelve and why kids? Well, one of those whys gets explained. Like a lot of the overarching plot of the series, there’s a fair amount of “just trust us” going on. After all, no one is really here for the plot, right?

Which makes it even more baffling that so much of the season focuses on it. What keeps me coming back to this show isn’t the answer to what turned Vecna evil or why he kidnapped Will all those years ago. The characters and their relationships to one another are why I’m here. Stranger Things is one of the rare shows that continually introduces new characters and makes them just as beloved as the original cast. It’s one of the series’ greatest strengths.They even manage that this season with the debut of Dipshit Delightful Derek (Jake Connelly), a true gem in a season bereft of them. So, why does it feel like so many characters are being misused?

Photo: Netflix

Well, for starters, there’s a whopping 18 characters in the main cast alone. That’s a lot of folks to give arcs to while also focusing on wrapping up your series-long plotline. It doesn’t help that the typical Stranger Things pattern of investing time into the everyday lives of our characters can’t happen when the stakes are so high. There are too many plates spinning. It leads to a lot of neglected characters and some poor acting. Some get it worse than others. Poor Joyce (Winona Ryder) remains the worried mom for much of the season. Linda Hamilton debuts as the sinister Dr. Kay but does little more than snarl orders to her underlings. I couldn’t even tell you what character arcs, if any, Murray or Robin had.

Which is a shame because the arcs they focus on mostly land. Noah Schnapp finally gets his moment to shine as Will comes out of his shell, pun very much intended. Sadie Sink remains one of the most impressive in the cast as Max navigates the mind realm she’s trapped in. Bower finds new levels of menace in Vecna while teasing at his human side. These are all great beats wedged in between clunky exposition and quirky one-liners. The show can do better.

Series creators The Duffer Brothers, who write and direct much of this season, seem determined to craft an ending as grand as possible. This means more time in the Upside Down than ever before, which means a heavier use of CGI. This leads to the visuals feeling uncanny valley at times, but it also creates a sense of spectacle. There’s at least 4 different realms that the action is operating in by the finale. A move that can easily cause confusion, but there are enough visible differences to make it work.

As for the finale, it’s a tale of two halves. The first hour and 15 minutes feels like the sort of Marvel-ized conclusion that dominates big blockbuster movies. It even has a big CGI monster attacking our heroes. The thrills are all there, but constant fake-outs dull the emotion. Steve is going to die! No, he’ll be fine. Hopper shot Eleven! No, it’s an illusion. By the time we get to Eleven’s actual sacrifice, you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop and reveal that it was also a ruse. Smartly, the show refuses to do that, at least not outright.

The last 45 minutes showcase Stranger Things at its peak. Sure, there’s still a few lingering questions like how Hopper got to just go back to police chief after being declared legally dead, but those pesky emotions are front and center. For a few fleeting moments, the series remembers what made it so enjoyable to so many. The focus is back on the characters, and it’s better late than never. Still, an ending is more than a few exceptional moments. It’s a buildup of everything that came before it, good and bad. Which is a roundabout way of saying this season was easily the worst, one that miraculously stuck the landing despite itself. The view at the end might be great, but that doesn’t mean the bumpy ride didn’t happen.

Stranger Things is currently streaming on Netflix.

In lieu of the traditional Tune In/Out rating, below is my definitive ranking of Stranger Things seasons from best to worst.

Season Ranking: 1>3>2>4>5

Little Disasters finds nothing authentic in its mom-based mystery

Photo: Paramount+

Being a mother is tough. This basic platitude means next to nothing coming from me, a childless man. My only real frames of reference are anecdotes from baby-rearing friends and childhood stories from my mom. It might mean a little more coming from the women in Little Disasters, a motherhood mystery that often feels like a Lifetime movie by way of ITV. At least, it would if the show didn’t fall back on those same bromides.

A Paramount+ production, Little Disasters makes its debut stateside a few months after premiering in the UK. The series follows Jess (Diane Kruger) who becomes the center of a child services investigation after bringing her daughter into the hospital with a skull fracture. Her answer of what happened is dodgy, and it’s clear to the doctor that something else is going on here. The doctor, Liz (Jo Joyner) is an old friend, making things extra complicated. The two were part of a birthing class that formed the basis of their friend group. Along for the ride are the business-first Charlotte (Shelley Conn) and arty, free-spirit Mel (Emily Taaffe).

The women never really move beyond basic archetypes, which makes it hard to care about what transpires between them. Jess remains the “perfect” mother with a dark side. A role necessary to sustain the mystery, but one that leaves Kruger with little to do. In contrast, Joyner takes the brunt of the acting work. Liz burdens herself with guilt at turning in her friend while also nursing a drinking problem. The husbands are even worse, moving between pathetic (Mel’s musician husband) to potential suspect (Jess’ husband, naturally).

As for that mystery, there isn’t much to it. It turns out child abuse doesn’t make the basis for an entertaining thriller. It doesn’t help that there’s only two actual suspects in this case. Little Disasters tries to offset this by flashing back between our present events and moments in the friend group’s history. While it adds to the tension within the gang, it does very little for the case. The actual culprit, when revealed, is laughable. A twist for the sake of one. That’s before we get into the strange “talking head” scenes that seem to suggest someone is interviewing the group after the events of the series. It’s a stylistic flourish that also has no proper payoff.

Little Disasters is another in a long line of generic mystery/thrillers. The miniseries often settles for bland storytelling and basic characterization at the expense of its cast. Far from a disaster, the series barely qualifies as a mishap. It begs you to watch it while doing something else. You won’t miss much. In fact, you probably won’t remember any of it the moment the credits hit.

Little Disasters is currently streaming on Paramount+.

Final Verdict: Tune Out

Television Turmoil: Manimal’s bad title and worse special effects made it a tough sell

Television Turmoil is a look at the worst and weirdest series to make their way onto the small screen.

While it’s often overlooked, the title of a work does a lot of the heavy lifting with our first impressions. A bad or misunderstood name can immediately give a potential audience the wrong idea (just ask Cougar Town about this). There might be no better example of the effects a bad title can have than Manimal. This clumsy shorthand for the lead character’s shape-shifting abilities conjures up images more akin to a Rob Schneider feature than the adventure drama it attempts to be.

Created by prolific producer, Glen A. Larson, the mind behind Battlestar Galatica, Magnum P.I. and, most importantly for this topic, Knight Rider. Manimal follows Dr. Jonathan Chase (Simon MacCorkindale), a man with the ability to shape-shift into any animal he chooses. He apparently has an affinity for panthers and hawks, as those are the two animals he transforms into every episode. As you might expect, he uses these incredible powers to fight crime, but he doesn’t do it alone. Aided by such engaging characters as “female cop who he occasionally flirts with” (Melody Anderson) and “black man who is there to make quips” (Michael D. Roberts), Chase solves a myriad of crimes that range from drug trafficking to stolen horses.

The show of the era that seems to best define what Manimal was attempting is Knight Rider. A program that also has a fantastical premise, but largely succeeded thanks to Hasselhoff and a cool talking car. Manimal has neither of those, instead relying on cheap special effects to keep viewers interested. The show’s largely uninterested in exploring the nature of Chase’s powers. Instead, it uses them mainly as a fun twist on the run-of-the-mill stories that make up the program.

Seemingly 90% of an episode could get recycled and used on similar 80s adventure programs. Sure, you’re not gonna see anyone on The A-Team transform into a horse and then get rode by an attractive woman while in pursuit of criminals, but you could easily see them involved with a similar case. It doesn’t help that anytime Chase transforms, usually twice an episode for perfect act structure synergy, we have to get an agonizingly long transformation sequence. Perhaps if the goal was to show how painful and labored this process is, it’d make a bit more sense.

As you might expect from an early 80s program, the special effects work leaves a lot to be desired, even by the standards of the time. While the attempts made are noble, the brief glimpses we get of mid-transformation are either terrifying to look at or downright hilarious. Such as a scene where Chase looks at his hand after it has transformed into a furry panther paw. It doesn’t help that MacCorkindale has to be in a three-piece suit for every panther transformation to get a shot of it ripping off his back. Don’t worry, the suit is back on and in pristine condition when he transforms into a human again. The Hulk could learn a thing or two from this guy.

Oddly, the 90-minute pilot episode finds zero time to explain exactly how Chase got these powers. Future episodes in this short-lived series aren’t any more forthcoming with details. The most we recieve is a bizarre opening narration by William Conrad that seems to suggest he inherited them from his father who might have ties to African missionaries. In fact, most of the show is uninterested in exploring our lead character’s life at all. He’s wealthy in a way that most doctors are not and seems to work with the police based solely off his career in medicine. Thinking about it more, I’m not even sure what type of doctor he is. The titular Manimal simply exists, and that should be enough to satisfy the viewer.

Even without these flaws, the show seemed destined to fail from the start. Manimal was part of a notoriously awful NBC lineup in 1983 and relegated to Fridays directly against the #1 show in the country, Dallas. There would have been little hope for the program, even if it was quality. Manimal ended up being one of eight new programs to be canned by NBC throughout the season.

Which is perhaps the strangest part of this undeniably weird show. Take away the over-reliance on cheap special effects, and you have a show that isn’t radically different from much of what was on at the time. In another time slot with a change in focus, this show could have potentially found a niche for itself. Sure, it would still have to contend with that truly awful title, but stranger things have happened.

As it currently exists though, Manimal deserves its place in television history as an example of the doldrums this era of NBC faced. Are there worse shows? Absolutely, but few have the right combination of cheap production, lackluster acting and a concept worthy of scorn. It is the rare show that fails at even producing light entertainment. Sometimes a name tells you exactly what you need to know.

Next Time: We head to the new millennium for another poorly titled program, the “edgy comedy” Shasta McNasty.

A Man on the Inside settles into a comfortable rhythm in its 2nd season

Photo: Netflix

The first season of Michael Schur’s A Man on the Inside came out at exactly the right time. Debuting at the tail end of November 2024, the show provided a needed distraction from the world. A warm, funny show with a lot of heart and just enough mystery to keep you engaged. A year later, the series returns for a second season — a quick turnaround for modern television. What was once common has now become remarkable.

Ted Danson is back as retired professor and amateur detective Charles Nieuwendyk. Charles has grown tired of working the “boring” jobs and asks his boss, Julie (Lilah Richcreek Estrada) for something exciting. Opportunity knocks almost immediately when the president of Wheeler College (Max Greenfield) reports his laptop stolen. The blackmail and potential leaking of confidential information could scuttle a deal with billionaire Brad Vinick (Gary Cole). To find the culprit, Charles must go undercover and onto campus.

As with its first season, the mystery and investigation are not the most important thing on A Man on the Inside’s mind. Instead, the show focuses much of its energy on the characters and their growing relationships. The emotions don’t hit as hard, but there’s still plenty of room for character growth, especially with the additions of Mary Steenburgen as Charles’ new love interest, Mona and Constance Marie as Julie’s estranged mother, Vanessa. These elements all come to a head in a standout Thanksgiving episode that brings everyone to Charles’ for a dinner that is anything but calm. It’s a pleasant reminder of how perfectly assembled this cast is.

Along with the recent additions, we have Stephanie Beatriz returning as Didi and an expanded role for Charles’ daughter Emily (Mary Elizabeth Ellis). We also get to see more of season 1 standout Calbert (Stephen McKinley Henderson). It’s a fantastic cast led by the always-charming Danson. Over 30 years removed from playing Sam Malone, Danson remains affable and self-effacing, quickly building a rapport with everyone he encounters. While there’s less emotional weight behind this season, he still finds the right moments to lend a dramatic note.

With only 8 episodes in the season, the show struggles to provide time for all of its characters’ stories and the central mystery. The pieces eventually come together for a satisfying conclusion, but the ride there is bumpy. The series occasionally feels at odds with its original premise and the cozy sitcom it’s morphing into. Still, at least we didn’t have to wait 2+ years for a new season.

There’s a lot to love about A Man on the Inside. This is a case where the joy of spending time with these goofballs outweighs the criticism. It’s a comfort watch of the highest order. The type of show that briefly restores your hope in humanity. That can be a tough thing for everyone to vibe with in the same way. If you like your comedy with a healthy dose of heart, you’ll find enough here to keep going. God and Netflix willing, Schur and his team will continue to explore these characters one half-baked mystery at a time.

A Man on the Inside is currently streaming on Netflix.

Final Verdict: Tune In

The Lowdown is a noir comedy focused on the community

Photo: FX

“You think people are one thing and then they turn out to be another.” This line, spoken during an encounter between two characters who thought they hated each other, is at the crux of FX’s series The Lowdown. It’s far from the only message the show has, but it’s one that comes up frequently. There’s no better show this year that perfectly captures the gap between how someone is perceived and who they actually are.

Created by Sterlin Harjo, the co-creator of the fantastic Reservation Dogs, The Lowdown is a neo-noir set in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Our story follows Lee Raybon (Ethan Hawke) a “truth-storian” who has more in common with Jeffrey Lebowski than Phillip Marlowe. Lee joins in our mystery after hearing about the apparent suicide of Dale Washberg (Tim Blake Nelson). Dale’s death comes at a bad time as his brother Donald (Kyle MacLachlan) is running for governor. There’s also the messy business of Lee’s recent expose on the Washbergs. As expected, things only get more complicated from there.

The Lowdown pulls from a host of influences, including westerns, mysteries, and crime fiction. There’s even a host of directing flourishes that reference the works of the Coens, David Lynch, and Hawke collaborator Richard Linklater. The mish-mash of styles works in the show’s favor, creating a tone that feels unique while paying homage to various inspirations. The visual style is as rich as the characters that populate this tale.

What helps The Lowdown stand out among the pack is the care it takes with all the eccentrics Lee meets on his journey. From allies like antiques proprietor Ray (Michael Hitchcock) to insidious real estate developer Frank Martin (Tracey Letts), the show finds something for everyone. Even bit characters like the store owners that share the block with Lee’s bookstore/apartment feel real. The attention spent on everyone we meet pays off long-term too. By the season’s end, we see why Lee fights so hard for this community.

Photo: FX

It helps to have incredibly talented actors for these roles. Keith David plays actual detective Marty, a man whose history with the Washbergs initially puts him at odds with Lee. Their eventual team-up proves crucial in solving the mystery. David’s ability to convey exasperation, especially as the case comes together, is always welcome. Jeanne Tripplehorn is Dale’s widow, Betty Jo, a former rodeo star accustomed to her life of privilege. Tripplehorn’s work here is nothing short of incredible, imbuing a potentially unlikeable character with an instantly relatable level of weariness. The most surprising star turn comes from Ryan Keira Armstrong as Lee’s daughter Francis. As a rule, I keep expectations low with child actors. Armstrong is an exception. Francis is smart, caring, but ultimately still allowed to act and think like a child. That she can go toe-to-toe with Hawke in their scenes together is a testament to her ability.

One of the keys to The Lowdown’s success is the chemistry Hawke seems to have with everyone in the cast. Lee Raybon is the type of unkempt detective truth-storian that we’ve seen in previous works, but Hawke instantly locks into what makes him so uniquely charming. We see it many times throughout the show’s run, how Lee disarms those he encounters and appeals to their better selves. His actual detective skills are subpar, but his people skills are next level.

At its heart, The Lowdown is a show about community. Through Lee’s journey, we see all the different sides of Tulsa and how the people there take care of each other. That sense of collective power is key to unlocking the mystery of Dale Washberg’s death. It’s also what fuels Lee. He cares deeply about the truth of the city he calls home, even if it’s ugly.

There’s plenty of ugliness in the world, and the series doesn’t shy away from it. The show doesn’t linger on it either. It’s just part of the experience of life. That’s the beauty of The Lowdown. It encompasses all the elements that life throws our way while telling an engaging story. If there’s any justice left, we’ll get to see more of these characters. Lord knows there’s plenty of truth left to uncover.

The Lowdown is currently streaming on Hulu.

Final Verdict: Tune In