Stranger Things finale: 5 must-watch shows to fill the Upside Down-shaped void in your heart

The Stranger Things finale has officially marked the series’ final curtain call, leaving millions of devoted fans staring at their screens in disbelief, desperately scrolling through streaming platforms searching for anything remotely capable of filling the Upside Down-shaped hole now occupying their hearts. You know the feeling. That peculiar brand of emptiness that arrives only when a series you’ve been invested in for nearly a decade finally comes to an end. The Duffer Brothers’ masterpiece has left us all orphaned, but fear not: there exists a carefully curated collection of films and television series that capture the essence of what made Stranger Things so utterly captivating.

If you’re seeking that perfect blend of supernatural mystery, nostalgic atmosphere, coming-of-age drama, and characters worth becoming emotionally invested in, this guide is precisely what you need to navigate the post-Stranger Things landscape. We’ve assembled the five most compelling alternatives that don’t just echo the DNA of Hawkins’ beloved story. They offer their own unique interpretations of the supernatural, the mysterious, and the deeply human struggle to survive impossible circumstances. Each recommendation has been selected not simply for surface-level similarities but for capturing that intangible magic that made Stranger Things resonate so deeply with audiences worldwide.

+ Read more: Stranger Things season 5: Everything you need to know before the final episodes

Post-Stranger Things finale: Top 5 must-watch series and films for fans

Why your heart needs these recommendations right now

The ending of Stranger Things represents more than just the conclusion of a television programme. It marks the symbolic closure of an era characterised by synth-wave nostalgia, found-family dynamics, government conspiracies, and the particular brand of terror that comes from adolescents discovering they possess far more resilience than they ever imagined. The show’s five-season arc allowed viewers to grow alongside the ensemble cast, witnessing their transformation from innocent children into battle-hardened young adults forced to confront incomprehensible horrors lurking just beyond the veil of reality.

The series finale, which aired on New Year’s Eve 2025, delivered emotional payoffs that left audiences simultaneously satisfied and devastated. Satisfied because the narrative reached its conclusion with narrative coherence intact, and devastated because saying goodbye to characters we’ve spent nearly a decade with is genuinely heartbreaking. The final episodes brought closure to storylines that began back in 2016, when we first met Eleven, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Will navigating their small Indiana town. The emotional weight of watching these characters face their ultimate challenge whilst grappling with the loss of innocence and the acceptance of adulthood created a viewing experience that transcended typical genre entertainment.

The longing for more Stranger Things content is entirely valid, which is precisely why exploring these five alternatives makes profound sense. Each recommendation on this list shares crucial thematic and stylistic elements with the Duffer Brothers’ magnum opus, whether that means emphasising supernatural elements, focusing on adolescent protagonists navigating impossible circumstances, presenting the 1970s or 1980s as a character unto themselves, or exploring the intersection between government cover-ups and cosmic mystery. What distinguishes these selections is that they’re not mere imitations. They’re worthy successors that offer their own distinctive magic, their own perspectives on what it means to be young and confronted with the impossible.

5. I Am Not Okay With This: When superpowers meet teenage angst

Streaming on Netflix

I Am Not Okay With This arrived on Netflix on 26 February 2020, and whilst the series was ultimately cancelled after a single season (a decision Netflix attributed to COVID-19-related circumstances), those seven episodes represent some of the most emotionally raw television ever committed to film. The series, adapted from Charles Forsman’s acclaimed 2017 graphic novel of the same name, introduces us to Sydney “Syd” Novak, a seventeen-year-old lesbian navigating the treacherous waters of adolescence whilst simultaneously discovering she possesses telekinetic powers triggered by intense emotions.

What makes this series extraordinary is its fearless approach to depicting the genuine messiness of teenage existence. The show refuses to sanitise the emotional turbulence, the sexual awakening, the grief, or the complexity of queer identity formation. Sophia Lillis delivers a genuinely exceptional performance as Syd, capturing the particular rage and vulnerability that characterises the teenage experience. Her portrayal avoids the trap of making Syd’s sexuality the defining characteristic of her personality. Instead, Lillis presents a fully realised person whose queerness is simply one facet of a complicated identity still being formed.

Wyatt Oleff and Sofia Bryant provide excellent supporting work as the central friend group attempting to navigate these strange and terrifying circumstances. The dynamic between Syd and her best friend Dina carries enormous emotional weight throughout the season, with the show handling the complexity of unrequited feelings and the fear of losing friendship with remarkable sensitivity. The series captures something essential about teenage experience: the way emotions feel simultaneously world-ending and utterly trivial, the way relationships shift and transform without warning, the way one can feel desperately alone even when surrounded by people who care.

The connection to Stranger Things becomes immediately apparent when you consider the Duffer Brothers’ involvement as producers on this project. The series essentially functions as “Stranger Things meets The End of the Fucking World,” blending supernatural elements with deeply personal coming-of-age storytelling that refuses easy sentimentality. Like the Duffer Brothers’ flagship programme, I Am Not Okay With This understands that adolescent experiences (unrequited crushes, parental conflict, the desperate desire for social acceptance, the discovery of one’s true self) are inherently dramatic and deserve to be treated with profound seriousness.

The series premiered with immediate critical acclaim and found passionate viewers who appreciated its willingness to explore themes of grief (Syd’s father’s suicide haunts her throughout the season), sexuality (the central relationship between Syd and her best friend Dina carries enormous emotional weight), and the terrifying realisation that one possesses powers you don’t yet understand and cannot control. The show handles Syd’s telekinetic abilities not as superhero wish-fulfilment but as an extension of her emotional state. When she’s angry, objects explode. When she’s frightened, lights flicker. The powers function as metaphor for the way intense adolescent emotions can feel genuinely uncontrollable.

The genuine tragedy of this series is that it was cancelled after merely seven episodes, robbing audiences of the opportunity to witness Syd’s continued evolution. The season-ending revelation (a mysterious figure appearing in the woods, suggesting that Syd’s situation is far more complicated than anyone realised) left viewers desperate for more closure, which unfortunately never materialised. The cancellation sparked genuine outrage amongst fans who had connected deeply with Syd’s journey and wanted to see her story reach its natural conclusion.

Nevertheless, what exists of I Am Not Okay With This represents quality television that captures the Stranger Things essence perfectly: adolescent protagonists, supernatural elements, found-family dynamics, and the emotional authenticity that transforms genre entertainment into something genuinely meaningful. For viewers seeking that particular brand of dramatic intensity mixed with the supernatural, this remains an essential watch. The series proves that sometimes seven episodes of brilliance matter more than multiple seasons of mediocrity.

4. The Black Phone: True crime horror in the 1970s

Streaming on Amazon Prime Video

Released in 2021, The Black Phone represents something considerably different from Stranger Things yet possesses genuine thematic and tonal overlap that makes it essential viewing for devoted fans. Directed by Scott Derrickson (who helmed the 2016 Doctor Strange film), this adaptation of Joe Hill’s acclaimed short story shifts the focus away from government conspiracies and parallel dimensions toward something far more grounded and unsettling: a genuine serial killer operating in Denver, Colorado during 1978.

The film stars Mason Thames as Finney Blake, a shy, clever thirteen-year-old who becomes the latest victim of “the Grabber,” a sadistic kidnapper portrayed with chilling intensity by Ethan Hawke. Trapped in a soundproofed basement with a disconnected telephone mounted upon the wall, Finney discovers that the phone rings with messages from the Grabber’s previous victims. These are ghostly communications that gradually reveal the terrible fates befallen to those who came before him, each conversation offering cryptic clues about how to survive an impossible situation.

What distinguishes The Black Phone from typical horror fare is its deliberate pacing, its refusal to rely on cheap jump scares, and its commitment to character development despite the inherent claustrophobia of the premise. The film functions simultaneously as a haunted-house narrative, a supernatural thriller, and a true-crime influenced drama that explores the psychological impact of trauma on young minds. Derrickson’s direction emphasises atmosphere over shock value, creating a sense of mounting dread that permeates every frame.

Ethan Hawke’s performance as the Grabber is methodically creepy rather than explosively violent, creating an unsettling atmosphere that lingers long after the credits roll. Hawke wears various masks throughout the film, each representing a different aspect of the Grabber’s fractured psyche. The restraint in his performance makes the character even more terrifying. There are no scenery-chewing theatrics or over-the-top villainy. Instead, Hawke creates a monster who feels disturbingly real and psychologically complex.

Mason Thames brings genuine vulnerability to the role of Finney, whilst Madeleine McGraw is absolutely riveting as Gwen, Finney’s younger sister blessed with psychic abilities. This detail immediately connects the film to Stranger Things’ mythology of children possessing extraordinary powers. Gwen’s prophetic dreams provide her with fragmented visions of where her brother might be held, creating a parallel narrative that emphasises family bonds and the particular kind of determination that comes from refusing to give up on someone you love.

The 1970s setting, whilst slightly earlier than Stranger Things’ 1980s nostalgia, provides that same period-piece authenticity and visual texture that made the Duffer Brothers’ series so visually distinctive. The film eschews contemporary technologies, grounding the narrative in a world of analogue communication and tangible physical environments. The colour palette favours muted browns and yellows, capturing the specific aesthetic of 1970s suburban America. Everything from the wallpaper patterns to the clothing choices to the cars parked on residential streets feels meticulously researched and authentically rendered.

For viewers craving something scarier and more genuinely disturbing than Stranger Things whilst maintaining the 1970s-1980s aesthetic and the emphasis on young protagonists discovering impossible supernatural abilities, The Black Phone delivers precisely what you’re seeking. The film never shies away from the horror of its premise but balances genuine scares with emotional depth that makes you care deeply about Finney’s survival.

The 2025 sequel, The Black Phone 2, has expanded the mythology by transforming the Grabber into a supernatural entity capable of haunting Finney and Gwen’s dreams, further cementing the franchise’s shift into genuine horror whilst maintaining the emotional weight that made the original so affecting. The sequel explores the long-term trauma experienced by survivors and the way horrific experiences reshape one’s understanding of reality. It’s a rare example of a horror sequel that deepens rather than dilutes the original’s impact.

3. It: Welcome to Derry: The origin story of Stephen King’s most iconic monster

Streaming on HBO Max

If Stranger Things drew heavily from Stephen King’s It, then It: Welcome to Derry functions as the essential companion piece. This is a genuine prequel that explores Derry’s history in 1962, decades before the events of Andy Muschietti’s celebrated film adaptations. This HBO Max series, which premiered on 26 October 2025, consists of nine episodes that dive deep into the town’s haunted history and the mysterious entity known as Pennywise. Rather than recycling the narrative of the original films, the series focuses on entirely new characters, specifically the ancestors of Mike Hanlon, one of the original novel’s primary protagonists.

Jovan Adepo and Taylour Paige anchor the ensemble as Leroy and Charlotte Hanlon, a military couple who relocate to Derry only to discover that the town harbours genuinely unsettling secrets. The series explores themes of systemic racism, community complicity, and the way evil can be normalised when everyone chooses to look away. Leroy and Charlotte are outsiders attempting to build a life in a town that doesn’t want them, facing both supernatural terror and the very real horror of American racism in the 1960s.

The connection to Stranger Things becomes immediately apparent when considering the fundamental DNA that binds these narratives together. Both the Duffer Brothers and Andy Muschietti (who directs multiple episodes of the Welcome to Derry prequel) drew from the same wellspring of 1980s horror and science-fiction cinema. Both programmes recognise that children and adolescents possess a particular kind of bravery that adults have lost. It’s an ability to confront the impossible without becoming entirely paralysed by fear. The series promises to explore the mythology that Stephen King established across his nearly 1,100-page novel, investigating the cyclical nature of Pennywise’s terror and the specific events that shaped Mike Hanlon’s determination to destroy the entity.

What makes It: Welcome to Derry particularly appealing for Stranger Things devotees is that it operates within the same genre space. This is supernatural horror blended with period-piece authenticity and character-driven storytelling that emphasises emotional resonance. Bill Skarsgård returns as Pennywise in his various manifestations, bringing the chilling presence that made the 2017 and 2019 films so effective. His performance continues to balance genuine menace with theatrical showmanship, creating a monster that feels simultaneously ancient and immediate.

The production values match the cinematic quality of the feature films, and the nine-episode format allows for considerably more character development and world-building than even the most generous theatrical release could permit. The series takes full advantage of the episodic format to explore multiple storylines simultaneously, weaving together various perspectives on Derry’s haunted nature. We see how different community members respond to the inexplicable disappearances and violent incidents that plague the town, some choosing denial whilst others attempt futile investigations.

For those who appreciated Stranger Things’ willingness to treat supernatural horror with genuine seriousness (to allow genuine terror to coexist with character drama and emotional authenticity), It: Welcome to Derry represents precisely the direction contemporary horror should travel. The series refuses to compromise on either front. The horror sequences are genuinely frightening, employing both practical effects and CGI to create nightmare imagery that feels tactile and immediate. Simultaneously, the character work receives equal attention, ensuring that we care about the people facing these incomprehensible threats.

The show also explores the specific history of Derry itself, revealing how the town’s geography and architecture reflect its cursed nature. The sewers where Pennywise dwells become characters in their own right, vast underground networks that suggest terrible secrets buried beneath ordinary suburban life. This attention to setting mirrors Stranger Things’ treatment of Hawkins as a place with its own distinct personality and hidden darkness.

2. The Vast of Night: A slow-burn sci-fi mystery that captures pure cinematic magic

Streaming on Amazon Prime Video

Arriving on Amazon Prime Video on 29 May 2020, The Vast of Night immediately distinguished itself as something genuinely special. This is a meticulously crafted science-fiction mystery set in 1950s New Mexico that somehow manages to be simultaneously understated and utterly captivating. Directed by Andrew Patterson in his feature directorial debut, this film tells the story of Everett Sloan, a charismatic radio disc jockey, and Fay Crocker, a quick-witted teenage switchboard operator, as they stumble upon a mysterious audio signal that triggers an increasingly elaborate conspiracy involving government cover-ups, potential alien contact, and the suppression of evidence related to extraterrestrial visitation.

The film was shot on a modest budget of merely $700,000 and completed in just three to four weeks, yet the final product possesses a visual and narrative sophistication that belies its humble origins. This proves that genuine artistic vision matters more than massive budgets. Patterson and his team crafted something that looks and feels far more expensive than its actual production costs, using creative cinematography and intelligent storytelling to overcome financial limitations.

Patterson’s directorial approach emphasises intimate character work and genuine tension over spectacle and action sequences. The film features a remarkable eight-minute continuous shot that races through the small town of Cayuga, beginning on a quiet street, moving through a parking lot, sweeping through an ongoing basketball game, and spiralling up crowded bleachers before plunging out of a window. This technical achievement feels not like showing off but rather like a natural extension of the story being told. The camera movements mirror Fay’s growing sense of urgency as she rushes to share her discovery with Everett.

Critics unanimously praised the cinematography of M.I. Littin-Menz and the performances of Jake Horowitz and Sierra McCormick, with particular commendation directed toward McCormick’s ten-minute switchboard scene. This is a sequence of pure acting mastery that ranks amongst the finest performances captured on film. McCormick plays the entire scene seated at her switchboard station, responding to a mysterious caller who shares a deeply personal account of a possible alien encounter decades earlier. The camera remains largely static, forcing us to focus entirely on McCormick’s facial expressions and vocal inflections as she processes this impossible information.

The film received a staggering 92% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes and a score of 84 on Metacritic, indicating genuine universal acclaim from both critics and audiences. These numbers are particularly impressive given the film’s modest origins and unconventional narrative approach. The Vast of Night succeeded by trusting its audience’s intelligence and patience, refusing to dumb down its mystery or rush through crucial character moments.

For Stranger Things enthusiasts, The Vast of Night provides something unique that the Duffer Brothers’ series, for all its accomplishments, never quite achieved: a slow-burn mystery that maintains tension through dialogue, characterisation, and atmosphere rather than relying upon dramatic reveals or action sequences. The film trusts its audience’s intelligence, building dread through implication rather than explicit horror. We never see the source of the mysterious signal, never witness direct alien contact, never receive definitive answers to every question raised. This ambiguity feels refreshing rather than frustrating because the film has earned our trust through meticulous attention to character and atmosphere.

The 1950s setting provides that same nostalgic atmosphere that makes Stranger Things so visually appealing, whilst the central narrative (adolescents discovering that the world is far more mysterious and unsettling than adults have been willing to admit) resonates with precisely the same thematic concerns that made Stranger Things so compelling. The film captures a specific moment in American history when UFO sightings and government secrecy were entering public consciousness, creating genuine paranoia about what might be happening beyond official explanations.

This is the type of film you’ll think about for weeks after watching, one that demands revisits because its slow-burn mystery reveals new layers upon subsequent viewings. Details you missed during the first watch suddenly gain significance. Throwaway lines of dialogue acquire new meaning. The film rewards careful attention and genuine engagement rather than passive viewing.

1. Super 8: Spielberg’s blessing, Abrams’ vision, and pure cinematic nostalgia

Streaming on Paramount+

Super 8, released on 10 June 2011, represents something truly extraordinary. This is a feature film directed and written by J.J. Abrams (the creator of Lost and mastermind behind the contemporary Star Trek films) and produced by Steven Spielberg, the literal godfather of science-fiction cinema and the fundamental creative inspiration upon which Stranger Things is consciously constructed. Set in the summer of 1979 in the fictional town of Lillian, Ohio, the film follows a group of young teenagers who are filming their own zombie movie on Super 8 film stock when they inadvertently witness a catastrophic train derailment. This accident unleashes a mysterious alien creature being transported by the military. It’s an entity searching desperately for a method to return to its home planet whilst causing considerable collateral damage throughout the small town.

What transforms Super 8 from mere homage to Spielbergian classics like E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and The Goonies into something genuinely distinctive is Abrams’ commitment to emotional authenticity amidst the science-fiction spectacle. The film functions simultaneously as a coming-of-age narrative (the central character Joe is grieving his mother’s recent death), a love story (Joe’s complicated feelings toward Alice, the daughter of the man his father blames for his wife’s death), and a high-stakes alien-invasion thriller.

Joel Courtney brings remarkable depth to the lead role, conveying genuine vulnerability and complexity rather than merely serving as a plot device. His performance as Joe captures the specific grief of a child who lost his mother suddenly, unexpectedly, and is now attempting to navigate adolescence without her guidance. Courtney avoids sentimentality, instead presenting Joe’s grief as something that surfaces in unexpected moments, colouring his interactions with his emotionally distant father and informing his growing feelings for Alice.

Elle Fanning, in an early career-defining role, brings charm and substance to Alice. She’s not simply the object of Joe’s affection but a fully realised character with her own complicated family dynamics and emotional wounds. Alice carries guilt about her father’s role in the industrial accident that killed Joe’s mother, creating a Romeo and Juliet dynamic where their budding romance must overcome family history and parental disapproval.

The ensemble cast (including Riley Griffiths, Ryan Lee, Gabriel Basso, and Zach Mills as the friend group perpetually attempting to film their zombie movie amidst genuine catastrophe) displays excellent chemistry. These kids feel like real friends rather than actors reading lines. They interrupt each other, finish each other’s sentences, and demonstrate the particular shorthand that develops between people who’ve known each other their entire lives.

The film’s train derailment sequence remains one of cinema’s most impressive pieces of action filmmaking, extended deliberately to capture the experience as it would feel to witnesses. Time seems to slow whilst chaos unfolds in slow motion. The sequence lasts several minutes, with train cars piling atop one another, explosions cascading through the wreckage, and debris flying in all directions. Abrams shoots the sequence from the kids’ perspective, emphasising their terror and confusion as they witness something far beyond their comprehension.

For Stranger Things devotees, Super 8 essentially functions as the direct ancestor of everything the Duffer Brothers accomplished. The elements are all present: teenagers on bikes discovering something extraordinary, small-town Americana, government conspiracy, an alien presence, genuine emotional stakes, and that particular aesthetic of 1970s-1980s nostalgia that makes genre entertainment feel somehow authentic.

Abrams himself has discussed how Super 8 was intended as a love letter to Spielberg’s early work. This is a conversation between creative generations about what made those films so essential. Spielberg’s involvement wasn’t merely in name. He actively collaborated with Abrams throughout production, offering guidance on emotional pacing, character development, and the integration of genuine human drama with extraordinary circumstances. Their collaboration resulted in a film that honours Spielberg’s legacy whilst asserting Abrams’ distinct creative voice.

Super 8 received an 81% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes and a Metacritic score of 72, translating to “generally favourable reviews” from critical consensus. The film grossed approximately $260 million worldwide, demonstrating that audiences remained desperately hungry for precisely this type of nostalgic science-fiction storytelling executed with emotional intelligence and creative ambition.

For those seeking the direct inspiration source material for Stranger Things (the film that essentially crystallised what the Duffer Brothers would later accomplish), Super 8 represents the essential viewing experience. It’s a film that doesn’t merely echo past glories but actively engages with them, celebrating what made cinema of previous decades so magical whilst forging its own distinctive identity. Watching Super 8 after experiencing Stranger Things provides a genuinely illuminating perspective on how the Duffer Brothers built upon established foundations to create something new.

The film also explores themes of memory and documentation. The kids are literally filming their own memories, capturing their adolescent experiences on Super 8 film stock that will eventually deteriorate and fade. This meta-textual element adds additional poignancy to the narrative, suggesting that all childhood experiences eventually become fuzzy, half-remembered fragments viewed through the distorting lens of nostalgia.

The Stranger Things-shaped hole and how to fill it

The emotional devastation that accompanies the conclusion of Stranger Things is remarkably genuine. These characters have been part of our lives since 2016. That’s approaching a full decade of investment in Hawkins, Indiana, its peculiar mysteries, and its deeply lovable ensemble cast. The Duffer Brothers crafted something rather rare in contemporary television: a series that maintained creative integrity throughout its entire run, that didn’t overstay its welcome, and that concluded with narrative coherence intact. The Stranger Things finale delivered genuine payoff for decade-long character arcs whilst maintaining the emotional authenticity that characterised the programme from its opening moments.

Yet ending a beloved series always creates a particular kind of absence. The weekly anticipation evaporates. The fan theories and online discussions dissipate. The character development you’ve grown invested in halts permanently. The world you’ve come to know through television ceases expanding. This feeling of loss connects to something deeper about how serialised storytelling functions in our lives. These characters become part of our weekly routines, our cultural conversations, our shared vocabulary. When the story ends, we lose not just the narrative but the ritual of gathering (whether physically or virtually) to experience new chapters together.

This collection of five films and series (each crafted with intelligence, emotional resonance, and a genuine commitment to making the supernatural feel frighteningly real) exists specifically to help navigate that void. None of these recommendations are simple Stranger Things clones. Rather, they’re artistic works that share crucial thematic and aesthetic DNA with the Duffer Brothers’ masterpiece.

I Am Not Okay With This offers the emotional raw nerve and genuine supernatural drama. The Black Phone delivers genuine horror and the 1970s setting. It: Welcome to Derry provides the origin-story satisfaction and commitment to Stephen King’s established mythology. The Vast of Night showcases what pure cinematic magic looks like when executed with intelligence and restraint. Super 8 grants direct access to the creative wellspring from which Stranger Things emerged. Together, these selections represent a genuinely comprehensive roadmap through the post-Stranger Things landscape. Some will haunt you. Others will charm you. All of them deserve your attention.

Where do you begin?

The most honest answer is to start with whatever appeals most directly to your specific emotional state. If you’re seeking something immediately comforting and emotionally resonant that understands your grief following the Stranger Things finale, I Am Not Okay With This offers that particular kind of raw authenticity that makes you feel seen. The series validates the messy, complicated feelings that come with adolescence and loss, refusing to offer easy answers or tidy resolutions.

If you want to experience something genuinely frightening and are prepared for something scarier than Stranger Things, The Black Phone and It: Welcome to Derry both deliver genuine horror. These aren’t jump-scare compilations but carefully crafted exercises in sustained dread that understand how to build and maintain tension across their runtimes.

+ Read more: The Conjuring Last Rites: The end of an era in horror

If you’re the type of viewer who appreciates slow-burn mysteries and wants to experience pure cinematic beauty, The Vast of Night is your answer. This film rewards patience and attention, unfolding its mystery at a deliberate pace that allows for genuine character development and atmospheric immersion.

If you’re prepared for the complete Stranger Things origin story and want to understand the fundamental creative influences that shaped the Duffer Brothers’ vision, Super 8 remains the absolute essential. This film provides the template upon which Stranger Things was built, offering insight into the creative lineage that connects Spielberg’s 1980s classics to contemporary genre entertainment.

What truly matters is that you don’t remain paralysed by Stranger Things’ absence. Excellent television and cinema exist specifically to provide the emotional experiences that you’re currently craving: wonder, terror, connection, mystery, and the particular form of storytelling that insists young people deserve to be protagonists of their own narratives rather than supporting characters in someone else’s story.

These five recommendations represent the very best of what’s currently available that captures those essential elements. The Stranger Things finale may have closed the Upside Down for good, but cinema’s portal to mystery, darkness, and genuine human connection remains perpetually open. You simply need to know where to look. Each of these selections offers a different path forward, a different way of processing the emotional aftermath of saying goodbye to Hawkins and its residents. Trust your instincts about which story calls to you first, and allow yourself to become invested in new characters, new mysteries, and new worlds worth exploring.