Stranger Things season one was like a slice of my childhood up on the screen -- the shock of recognition was honestly a little uncomfortable. Those were the shabby suburban streets I biked around in, those were the carpeted TV rooms I played D&D in, that was pretty much my mom, those were pretty much my friends.
Season three is instead like a slice of the TV shows from my childhood up on the screen. Being reminded of
Square Pegs and
Whiz Kids is still trippy, but doesn't have quite the same emotional impact.
That said, I thought the latest storyline was a blast, and for sure had a lot more energy than the direction-seeking season two. I liked the two new girls (you know you have charisma when your one-off bit as the bratty kid sister makes such an impression that you end up with a full story arc of your own), and the newcomers had the good fortune of joining the subgroup with the best comic chemistry.
My biggest caveat: The sheriff, our apparent adult male romantic lead, was just a fucking asshole this time out. Increasingly sour-tempered, increasingly unattractive physically, increasingly skeevy with his adoptive daughter and love interest -- and oh, hey, he's a cop who coerces confessions out of suspects with beatdowns and threats of torture, so that's topical. More dates for the science teacher, please -- he even has a better mustache.