***Mild spoilers for season 4 of Stranger Things***
One time, at this party, a girl I went to high school with saw me tokin’ up and couldn’t really believe it. After all, I’d spent my teen years being a wallflower, more concerned with music and writing than things going out with my peers. When she asked when I, of all people, started smoking, and I told her the truth—around the latter half of senior year—she gave me this look and said, “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
That’s exactly how I felt when I first saw Jonathan in season 4 of Stranger Things. Once the school freak, whose only friend was his camera, he was now hittin’ the bong before heading to school. I guess the pipeline from artsy loner to artsy stoner is a pretty straight shot.
And you know what? I’m so here for it. Ol’ Jonny Boy was my favorite character in season 1, and while I was happy to see him finally hook up with someone in later seasons, he lost that sense of individualism that I liked about him in the first place. We love a relationship arc, gotta stan, but he lacked some of the luster that helped him stand out.
Then, all of a sudden, California gave him his Richard Linklater arc, and he quickly became one of my favorite components of the new season. This is saying something, since I think this season is the best since the first. It’s got all the storytelling beats I’d been waiting for (and nearly given up on), but it’s just … it’s kind of a lot, right? One minute Robin is experiencing gay panic (relatable), and the next, Hopper is getting his ass beat in Russia. Then you’re at some Wes-Anderson-y school for weird kids, only minutes after watching Joyce and Murray CRASH LAND A PLANE AND LIVE.
It’s a lot. And then, there’s Jonathan and his duderoni Argyle, who bring things waaaay back down to earth.
If season 4 is an amalgamation of different movie stereotypes from the 80s, then god, am I glad that the Duffer Bros. incorporated aspects of classic dude-guy movies that paved the way for movies like Dazed and Confused later on. And Jonathan was truly the best choice for this arc—if only for comedic value. I mean, here you have this kid who would have definitely gone through an Oasis/Radiohead/etc. phase, and now he’s literally too high to function at the dinner table.
Now, let’s be clear: the poor kid is definitely not having a good time, even while having a good time. He’s got a lot on his mind. He doesn’t want to go to Emerson with Nancy, and that scares him. Long-distance is hard. Seeing his siblings struggle in school is hard. And he’s still technically the “man of the house,” which means his dreams of being a photographer might need to be put on hold. But still, I like the fact that we finally get to see him go through some kind of growth again.
I mean, what is adolescence, really, if not a series of fumbles and grasps for happiness and a sense of purpose while doing the dumbest ish imaginable? That’s what makes a good Linklater-y movie so damn cathartic to watch, and so funny without even having to try. That’s why we like films like Little Miss Sunshine or Clerks: misery is a fact of life, but the determination to squeak by, however goofily, is a very cool, very grounding thing to see.
Oh. And, yeah, we all need an Argyle in our lives, so I’m glad Jonathan found his. The guy needed friends, you know?
(featured image: Netflix)
