Here, There & Elsewhere. Serial thrills

Friends have been telling me that the TV show Stranger Things is available on Netflix. I start watching the same day that Bins and Rocky, our wild raccoon friend, return from trekking in Vermont. “We had the best time!” says Rocky, his whiskers twitching in excitement. “We almost got eaten by a bear, I learnt how to light a campfire and we both spent one night in a tree!”

“Shush,” I say, with my eyes glued to my computer’s screen. The story is set in the 1980s, in the small-town of Hawkins, Indiana. Four sweet-faced young boys stumble upon an Evil Laboratory at which Terrible Things Are Happening. “Yuck!” says Bins. “You’re watching a horror serial?” “What’s that?” asks Rocky. “It’s something humans watch when they’re tired of their own safe lives,” says Bins.

“Hey,” says Rocky, trying to get between me and my laptop’s screen, “we made friends with the bear — and he took us fishing with him! Isn’t that amazing?” I growl and push him aside. “Stop distracting me!” I say. “Some seriously weird things are happening to the kids in the serial...” “But we’re telling you about a real life adventure!” says Bins. “How can you prefer that to some make-believe junk?” “What happens to the kids?” asks Rocky, peering at the screen. “And what’s THAT?” He’s pointing to a phone with a rotary dial. “Why is that big man breathing fire all the time? And how come the cars look so weird?”

So I explain. “It’s set in the time when the only phones were landlines, with rotary dials. Anti-smoking laws were not in place and smokers could puff away anywhere they pleased — inside offices and even elevators. Teenagers drove around in big flashy cars and women had funny hairstyles and spent their whole day looking after the house.” “I still can’t understand why you prefer this nonsense to our real-life adventures,” sneers Bins with his lip curling all the way to his eyebrows.

“It’s all a metaphor for the Establishment and its exploitation of the powerless,” I say. “In the story, the kids are innocent and trusting, while the grown-ups carry out horrible experiments. In real life, ordinary citizens are innocent victims of the cruel social experiments of our governments and wealthy industrialists.” “Shush!” says Rocky. “Look — there’s something running about in the forest and it doesn’t look like a bear!”

“Hmmm,” says Bins. “And those kids don’t look like boys! Their faces are too pretty.” “I agree,” I say. “I think it’s a sly plot on the part of the TV industry to sexualise young boys.” “You mean,” says Bins, “now that it’s politically incorrect to openly admire young girls?” “Exactly!” I say. “There’s even a girl with psychic powers who looks like a boy — as if being just a girl isn’t good enough.” “Can’t you hush?” hisses Rocky. “I can’t understand a word that monster’s saying.” “Pause it, please,” says Bins. “I need to get us all some chips.”

Manjula Padmanabhan , author and artist, writes of her life in the fictional town of Elsewhere, US, in this weekly column

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