Happy Friday!
I was one of those kids who was afraid of strange things.
I wasn’t scared of anything rational, like danger or illness befalling my family, or being made fun of at school. No, I was afraid the people in paintings were looking at me, that a hand might reach out of the mirror—or the toilet—and snatch me into some netherworld. My imagination didn’t need additional fodder to keep me up at night, so I stayed away from horror movies as much as possible. I made a deeply regrettable exception for a screening of It at a middle-school slumber party, and wasn’t the same for years.
But this week, in anticipation of today’s debut of season 2 of Stranger Things, I’ve been braving the first season of the Netflix series. Yes, that’s right. I made it one year without finishing all eight episodes, after my boyfriend binge-watched it without me. (No blame, I was slow.) I was too much of a wuss to get through the story of plucky kids facing dark, mysterious terrors on my own. This week, I dove back in.
As Quartz TV reporter Adam Epstein has written, for children of the 1980s, the series delivers a deeply satisfying dose of nostalgia, thanks to a Goonies-ish gang, “otherworldly synthesizers and spectral effects,” and a brilliantly cast Winona Ryder. But the appeal goes beyond that, he wrote, with universal themes of grief, friendship, and faith in forces we cannot understand. (This may be why the first season, dubbed into nine different languages and subtitled in 22, had a global audience.)
“Going on adventures as a kid is not unique to 1980s middle America,” Adam wrote. “Stranger Things might be especially nostalgic for people who grew up in the 1980s, but it’s also nostalgic for those of us who didn’t live during that decade or even grow up on its movies. It transports you to a time that we all knew as children, when anything seemed possible no matter how outlandish, when friends could come together and save their missing comrade from a monster. It shows us a place that we ache to return to, again and again. And soon, you’ve watched every episode.”
Watch it with our Stranger Things bot. Yes, that’s right—our bot! Much like poor Will was trapped in the upside-down, our bot is confined to Facebook Messenger, where it lives to chat with you about all things Stranger. It’s the creation of Emily Withrow, the human editor of Quartz’s Bot Studio, who chatted with me about it this week.
Jenni Avins: So why a Stranger Things bot? Is it to refresh your memory if you finished season one months ago? Or is it for people like me, who watch out-of-step with the rest of the world, and then have no one to talk with?
Emily Withrow: It’s for everyone! We thought it would be fun to do this for a Netflix show, since not everyone watches them at the same time every week. So the bot is the companion for anyone interested in season two. We get you caught up, point you to all kinds of awesome fan art and cultural commentary. It is, by the way, us. We’re writing all the content. (A robot isn’t writing anything.)
Jenni: My experience began with Barb raising her eyebrows. Does everyone’s, or did you somehow know I’m deeply affected by her eyeglasses?
Emily: Everyone’s experience starts with Barb. But after that, it starts to differ, based on your interests and the way you interact with the bot. Part of the fun is not knowing where the bot is leading you. If we learn that you’re really into design, we might talk to you about ’80s patterns making a comeback. If you’re into music, we might send you a playlist.
Jenni: Amazing! So this weekend, I can chat it up about season two?
Emily: Yes! Our current plan is to update the bot with two episodes each day. My brain is 100% devoted to Stranger Things at the moment.
[quartzy-recipe]
Make some popcorn the old-fashioned way! As per Food52: Put 3 tbsp. of neutral oil (like grapeseed) in a heavy-bottomed pan with three popcorn kernels. Once those pop, add 1/3 cup popcorn kernels, cover the pot, and remove it from the heat for 30 seconds. Then, put it back on medium-high, and when the kernels begin to pop, shake the pot from side to side with the lid ajar (Carefully!), until the popping slows to a couple seconds between pops. Dump the popcorn into a bowl, drop 3 tbsp. of butter into your still-hot pan. Once it melts, pour it over your fresh popcorn. Salt it, stir it, and serve.
The case for making oneself watch scary things. “It’s one of only a few experiences we know of where you can really get your adrenaline going, yet know that you’re still completely safe,” Adam Epstein told Quartz editor Jackie Bischof this week, as she assessed the ways in which the form may also help her—a South African expat in New York—understand the fears, vulnerabilities, and pop culture references of the American psyche. Wes Craven, the late director of horror classics such as A Nightmare on Elm Street and Scream, pointed out that many movies reflect the subconscious fears of their moment, whether nuclear war or science gone too far.
And, of course, we get to feel like kids again. As life serves up more complicated sources for real fear and anxiety, there’s something almost comforting in the idea of fighting an evil Demogorgon, hiding in the wall. “The mythic ‘fairy-tale’ horror film intends to take away the shades of grey,” wrote Stephen King in 1981. “It urges us to put away our more civilized and adult penchant for analysis and to become children again.”
Have a great weekend—and happy Halloween!
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Say this with me: Sfumato Amaro Rabarbaro. It’s Italian for smokey rhubarb amaro, and it’s the key ingredient in an autumnal cocktail that’s Quartzy editor Indrani Sen’s new standby: Mix 1 oz each of Sfumato Amaro Rabarbaro, red vermouth, and rye. Pour it over ice and top it with a splash of not-too-sweet ginger ale (Indrani likes Goslings). Drop in a lemon twist. Oh, one more thing! 📸Did you know we have a Quartzy Instagram account now? Follow along for cultural tidbits, genius tips, and souvenirs from our travels.