Stranger Things 2, Stranger Things II, & Arabic vs. Latin

I’ve just quite enjoyed watching Netflix’s Stranger Things 2, though I can’t help but feel that I’d enjoy the series more if it would make more of an effort to be its own thing, and stop beating you around the head with homages to 80s cinema. That indebtedness to cultural reference begins right with the title. Ordinarily, a new season of a TV show doesn’t have a new title, but Stranger Things isn’t influenced by other TV shows, only by movies. So the pulsing Carpenter-esque score and neon logo of the original is supplemented with a “2”, to give you the feeling you’re sitting down in anticipation of some kick-ass, 80s-vintage sequel movie.

Except…that’s really not how it would be, at all. Nowadays, everyone knows that the second movie in a series is called [Original Title] 2, and maybe with some kind of subtitle, though that format’s actually been going out of fashion for a while, with sequels like Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Thor: The Dark World and Avengers: Age of Ultron going simply for a subtitle, while others like Rocky Balboa, Rambo, Jason Bourne, Logan, Leatherface and Jigsaw decide that the main character’s name alone is sufficient, even where it’s confusing.

But people in the 80s likely wouldn’t recognise a big fat number 2 as the dominant sequel numbering format, either. Have a look at some of the sequel films of the 70s & 80s: The Godfather, Part II; French Connection II; Exorcist II: The Heretic, The Exorcist III; Rocky II, Rocky III, Rocky IV, Rocky V; Superman II, Superman III, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace; Friday the 13th Part II, Friday the 13th Part III, Friday the 13th Part IV: The Final Chapter, Friday the 13th Part V: A New Beginning, Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives, Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood, Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan, Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday, Jason X; Faces of Death II, Faces of Death III, Faces of Death IV, Faces of Death V, Faces of Death VI; Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country; Psycho II, Psycho III, Psycho IV: The Beginning; Porky’s II: The Next Day; The Hills Have Eyes Part II; Rambo: First Blood Part II, Rambo III; The Karate Kid Part II, The Karate Kid Part III; Evil Dead II; Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, Revenge of the Nerds III: The Next Generation, Revenge of the Nerds IV: Nerds in Love; Ghoulies II, Ghoulies III: Ghoulies Go to College, Ghoulies IV; Phantasm II, Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead, Phantasm IV: Oblivion; Hellbound: Hellraiser II; Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth, Hellraiser IV: Bloodline, Hellraiser V: Inferno, Hellraiser VI: Hellseeker, Hellraiser VII: Deader, Hellraiser VIII: Hellworld, Hellraiser IX: Revelations; The Fly II; Ghostbusters II; Back to the Future Part II, and Back to the Future Part III. There’s a trend here for Roman numerals, perhaps because they lend your (quite possibly trashy) sequel a touch of class, perhaps because they’re familiar from Superbowl numbering (which only ever took one short break from Romans, for Superbowl 50); or, most likely, because everyone else was doing it. This extended to the biggest franchise of the time, Star Wars, which may have been screwy by starting its numbering at four, but nonetheless ran through Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope, Star Wars: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back and Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi before reaching Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones and Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith.

With a small number of exceptions, running basically only to Jaws 2, Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior, Police Academy 2–6 and A Nightmare on Elm Street 2–5, it was like this all throughout the 1980s, and it wasn’t until the dawn of the 1990s that Arabic numerals started to take over from Roman: Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (1987), Silent Night, Deadly Night 3: Better Watch Out! (1989), Silent Night, Deadly Night 4: Initiation (1990), Silent Night, Deadly Night 5: The Toy Maker (1991); Fright Night Part 2 (1988); Lethal Weapon 2 (1989), Lethal Weapon 3 (1992), Lethal Weapon 4 (1998); Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990); RoboCop 2 (1990), RoboCop 3 (1993); Die Hard 2: Die Harder (1990); Troll 2 (1990), Troll 3 (1993); Child’s Play 2 (1990), Child’s Play 3 (1991); Predator 2 (1990); Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991), Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003); ALIEN³ (1992); Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992), Home Alone 3 (1997), Home Alone 4 (2002). Maybe this was due to greater audience familiarity with that more practical numbering system, which wouldn’t see audiences getting distracted trying to figure out what number Friday the 13th Part VIII really translated to. But then again, they were probably all just playing follow the leader. Some series even started out using Roman then switched to Arabic in the late-80s or 1990s: there was 1981’s Halloween II, then 1982’s Halloween III: Season of the Witch before we got 1988’s Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers and 1989’s Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers; Meatballs Part II (1984), Meatballs III: Summer Job (1986), then Meatballs 4 (1992); Return of the Living Dead Part II (1988) and Return of the Living Dead 3 (1993).

And you have to feel sorry for the really confused Texas Chainsaw series, which managed to take a step backwards in following up 1986’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 with 1990’s Leatherface: Texas Chainsaw Massacre III, as did Death Wish, moving from 1982’s Death Wish II to 1985’s Death Wish 3 and 1987’s Death Wish 4: The Crackdown, then backtracking for 1994’s Death Wish V: The Face of Death. For the most part, though, switching to Arabic was a permanent decision, and it was always Latin to Arabic, never vice versa. Looking at how many of the movies listed here have been invoked by Stranger Things, you might think they’d think pay closer attention. But it’s too late now for them to try Stranger Things III.

Sherlock, James Bond, & the right way to write Doctor Who

APPARENTLY Sherlock‘s Season 3 finale, “His Last Vow”, has achieved more acclaim than any other episode in the show’s run, & is set to make Steven Moffat the most successful writer in TV history. It’s a shame, because it was rubbish, a huge pile of illogical twists explaining, or failing to explain, other illogical twists. A major character is revealed not to be what they seem, in a way that has no buildup & adds nothing to their character; a new villain is introduced, one who the show simply informs us is the nastiest threat Holmes & Watson have faced so far (he isn’t; Moriarty is); several things nearly happen then don’t; & Sherlock yet again does something unforgivable to get his own way, which the show brushes over pretty quickly. It’s clear that Steven Moffat wrote this chaotic sprawl of a finale not as something satisfying & character-drived, that would stand up to repeated viewings, but as a sort of summer blockbuster, a rollercoaster ride of thrills & unexpected chills. & obviously, he succeeded, looking at Sherlock‘s ratings & its reviews. But it felt somehow like an unsatisfying episode, & I think it’s because you simply can’t raise the stakes continually.

The Sherlock Holmes novels & stories generally have very low stakes, & they’re one of the most successful bodies of work in all literature, one of the most influential creations in fiction. They’re just mysteries, very wellconstructed mysteries. There isn’t even always a murder in Sherlock Holmes stories, & the worst possible outcome is usually that Holmes would have failed. He was battling against frustration & boredom. Sometimes he was in danger of being killed, & in “The Final Problem” & “The Adventure of the Empty House”, which are as dramatic as the Holmes stories get, he was in danger of being killed and failing to stop criminal mastermind Professor Moriarty & his gang. I like these low stakes. Mystery, as a genre, requires its protagonist not to be in immediate peril; they need time to make deductions, follow leads, & so on. It’s telling that only “A Study in Pink”, Sherlock‘s first episode, is a genuine mystery. Ever since, Moffat & Gatiss have raised the stakes so continually that “The Sign of Three”, wherein Holmes must write a speech for Watson’s wedding, felt like a relief, despite some irritatingly wacky sitcomisms. There have been so many twists & masterminds & terrorist cells & state secrets & scandals that would rock the nation that Sherlock now feels more like James Bond. But it’s an unsatisfying sort of Bond because those movies never did Sherlock‘s superficial trick of artificially creating drama by telling us things have never been this deadly; for Bond, it’s all in a day’s work.

Sherlock‘s stakeraising is probably more indebted to American television dramas, the expensive & backstory-laden sort that the last decade produced so many of. Traditionally, television was premise-based, like a sitcom, so that viewers could miss several episodes – in an age without DVD, iPlayer or Netflix – & still enjoy the show. So Number 6 tried to escape, & failed, in every episode of The Prisoner, & it was impossible for viewers to fall behind. But since there’s simply no reason for a modern television viewer to ever miss an episode, shows are now more free to engage in complex plots without fear of alienating audiences, & while the result has been a golden age which has produced some of the best television in history, it has, on the other hand, created something of a demand for constant twists & surprises, because the characters simply having a normal, everyday adventure just doesn’t cut it anymore. It’s like needing harder drugs.

& one of the shows hit hardest by this glossy American highstakesism is Doctor Who. In the show’s classic period, The Doctor could barely control his TARDIS & consequently just drifted through time & space, meeting people, getting into scrapes. It was a brilliant take on the classic Walking the Earth trope, & gave the show almost unlimited scope: if the producers felt like doing a Western, they could just do a Western. Steven Moffat’s time as showrunner, however, has seen a focus on mysteries, arcs, twists, & all of the hyperdramatic elements that have sucked the life from Sherlock. Because plot isn’t really what makes stories charming, or sad, or exciting, or addictive: it’s characters. Writers should use plot to get the most from their characters, but Moffat has it backwards: he’s happy to sacrifice a character’s integrity for the sake of a big, shocking TV moment. & such shocking moments, done well, can make for fantastic television. But when every single episode purports to be The Doctor’s most dramatic adventure yet, then nothing feels dramatic. As Nigel Tufnel puts it in This Is Spın̈al Tap, “You see, most – most blokes are going to be playing on 10. You’re on 10, here, all the way up, all the way up, all the way up. You’re on 10 on your guitar. Where can you go from there?” Nigel Tufnel’s solution, of course, was to go to 11. It seems Moffat thinks he can do the same. It’s a shame, because he’s clearly a total fanboy of Doctor Who & Sherlock Holmes, but he has epitomised Wilde’s “The Ballad of Reading Gaol”, & killed the thing he loves.