Stranger Things: Season 5

There are songs that sneak into life and refuse to leave, and “Running Up That Hill” by Kate Bush is one of those. The first time I heard it in the context of Stranger Things, it hit me not as nostalgia, but as a punch to the chest. It’s not just about music– it's about empathy, sacrifice, and imagining what it would take to trade places with someone else just to understand them. That’s exactly what Season 5 of Stranger Things is doing with every single one of its characters. 

By the time this season rolls around, the kids we first met on their bikes in Hawkins, Indiana aren’t kids anymore. They’ve grown, aged, carried trauma, and we’ve watched it all. Seeing Eleven confront the weight of her own power, Max trying to survive the lingering effects of trauma, or Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington just desperately trying to protect those he loves- it’s impossible not to feel the stakes personally. I can’t think of another series that has made me care this much about fictional people running through dark forests, facing monsters, and still somehow feeling heartbreakingly real as the growing pains alongside the characters kick in. Time has flown by in Hawkins, and so has it for the viewer themselves. 

Season 5 isn’t just about the Upside Down anymore. It’s about understanding the choices we make when we’re terrified, the cost of survival, and what it means to love someone when love itself isn’t easy. Watching them fight Vecna isn’t just thrilling– it’s tense because we’ve invested in these relationships. Every fight scene isn’t just spectacle; it’s a moral and emotional test. And yes, there are moments where I leaned forward, my heart pounding for the characters and Eddie Munson, but there are just as many moments that left me silently thinking, “Gosh, I would do that for them too.” 

I can’t overstate how much music adds to all of this. “Running Up That Hill” doesn’t just underscore the tension; it gives it a soul-defying anthem. It reminds us, in a way that no line of dialogue ever could, that pain is transferable, that empathy is a choice, and that sometimes the run itself is the point. That’s what this final season gets right in a way the earlier ones didn’t always need to: it doesn’t just want us to root for the characters to survive– it wants us to feel what they’re feeling and climb alongside them, even if just in imagination. 

Honestly, I think that’s why Season 5 is so satisfying. It’s big, it’s epic, it’s full of the heart-stopping action one would expect– but underneath all the chaos is something much deeper. It’s a finale that honors its characters by letting them carry their growth, their mistakes, their friendships, and their love into the story’s conclusion. That emotional integrity makes it feel like more than a TV show. Stranger Things has become a shared experience, a hill we’re all running up together. 

I cried. I cheered. I hit pause to let a line of dialogue sink in. When the final credits rolled, I felt that mix of exhaustion and exhilaration that only comes when a story we have loved for over a decade manages to actually live up to itself. That’s the hill. That’s why this season–and that song–resonate so completely. They remind me– and maybe you– that the climb is worth it, not because it’s easy, but because we don’t have to ride it alone.