Editor's Note: The following article contains spoilers for Season 4 Volume I of Stranger Things.Stranger Things is a coming-of-age allegory with supernatural worlds, creatures, and other bizarre obstacles that all represent childhood trauma. With the recent release of Season 4, Volume 1, the show proves that it can be bigger, better, and scarier. In this popular series, with an exciting super-powered protagonist at the heart of its mystery, another pillar of the show began his journey as a flat stereotype. The glue of Stranger Things is the much-adored Steve Harrington (Joe Keery). His transformation from a jerk, to a lovable babysitter, and now to a reluctant hero, deserves to be explored.
Hawkins’ supernatural barriers present a physical threat, but the real world arguably affects kids as much as the Upside Down. Pressures of conforming to, as Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) calls them, “primitive constructs”, are everywhere in the Duffer Brothers' creation. The juxtaposition of being independent and creative with the alluring complacency of a suburban lifestyle is an Upside Down in itself. This conundrum is represented through Steve’s character as he transitions between adolescence and adulthood. First introduced as a traditional 80s jock trope, he was originally destined for an early Season 1 death. But Joe Keery’s lovable performance forced the Duffer Brothers to rewrite his arc, beginning his journey from childish "cool guy" to a matured friend.
Steve is first portrayed as a narrow-minded, popular jock, who has shallow aspirations and unreasonably good hair (four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray). Through the lens of Steve and Nancy Wheeler’s (Natalia Dyer) new relationship, we discover that Steve struggles with his identity. He’s a white, heterosexual, wealthy, suburban athlete who fears his life will fall apart after he graduates from high school and realizes Prom King doesn’t mean much in college. As these existential fears compound, Nancy becomes an asset to Steve because he conflates having a romantic relationship with self-actualization. Her academic skills coupled with her kindness delude Steve into thinking he can become a better student and person by just being attached to her.
Steve implies that his father cheats on his mom, which explains why he’s afraid of being lonely and creates these unhealthy relationship dynamics. Nancy begins to notice his immaturity when Barb (Shannon Purser) goes missing after his house party and Steve’s first concern is to keep her quiet and away from the cops. Nancy begins to distance herself from Steve, as she solves one of her first mysteries in Hawkins - Steve Harrington is a superficial, selfish child. As the illusion of their relationship and facade of the Prom King fades, helped by Jonathan Byers’ (Charlie Heaton) fists, Steve begins self-reflecting on his decisions. He separates himself from his toxic friends and goes to the Byers' to apologize.
He finds Nancy and Jonathan in a room full of Christmas lights where supernatural chaos ensues, he dips out because early Season 1 Steve is gonna “Steve.” As he approaches his car to drive away from the nightmare, he looks at the house and his decision to run from people in need in guilt. The defining moment at the start of his reluctant hero journey happens when he turns around. Risking his life to protect Nancy and Jonathan, he takes his iconic spiked bat and fights off the Demogorgon. The end of Season 1 sets up what kind of adult Steve wants to be. And even though he’s well-intended, trying to surround yourself with seemingly good people, like Nancy, isn’t enough; rather, it’s what you choose to do when no one is looking that makes you a respectable person.
A healthier Season 2 Steve tries to rekindle his relationship with Nancy, but she understandably can’t ignore their complicated past and calls it off. The end of Steve and Nancy is born of a lack of communication, which is a vital discovery for his journey. Steve needs to examine different parts of himself; thus far, he’s been defined by his romantic interests, which is a common through line of Steve’s slow transition to adulthood. A change begins when Dustin seeks Steve’s help to find his baby demodog (Dart). Steve explores Hawkins with Dustin and restrains himself from bringing roses, and that winning hair, to Nancy's front door.
Inevitably, Steve protects the whole Hawkins’ kid crew and reluctantly throws himself in dangerous situations to defend the children. First by taking down hordes of demodogs, and then by thrusting himself in front of a bigoted Billy (Dacre Montgomery). Harrington’s evolution as a babysitter and defender of his friends best reflects his willingness to leave his former, immature persona in the past. In his final scene, Steve drops Dustin off at prom and acts as a mentor with some cool Uncle advice: “Now you’re going to go in there, look like a million bucks, and you’re going to slay them dead.” Steve watches a confident Dustin walk in and sees Nancy at Prom. There is a moment where you think Steve will run in and get Nancy back, but that isn’t true to what he’s learned in Season 2. He doesn’t want to revert to his juvenile and desperate former self, so instead, he rolls his eyes and drives off with no one else to babysit.
The Duffer brothers humanize Steve through the first few seasons, but he becomes a fully empathetic and capable ally in Season 3. We find him in a sailor Scoops Ahoy uniform, a place where he gives ice cream to his favorite Hawkins’ kids with his coworker Robin (Maya Hawke). Steve goes on a few adventures with Robin, Dustin, and Erica (Priah Ferguson) to stop the Russians from opening the Upside Down. It’s evident he’s kept his babysitter skills and keen awareness of danger as he fights through Russians to save Hawkins. Unfortunately, he’s still actively searching for a partner to define him. That’s where we get the extraordinary bathroom scene between Steve and Robin; an incredible display of acting and character building. As Steve and Robin finish the last few minutes of their drug-induced ride (thanks, Russia), Steve reveals that the confines and constructs of high school prevented him from seeing the girl he was really in love with.
Robin believes this is Nancy, but Steve explains that the girl isn’t Nancy and proclaims his love for Robin, “Because I think I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” And in a beautifully tender moment, a shocked Robin comes out to Steve that she likes women, specifically a classmate of theirs, Tammy Thompson. He takes a second to think and hilariously explains how she can do better than Tammy Thompson because, “She’s a total dud.” In this gentle moment, we learn that Steve is compassionate for others and that the world doesn’t revolve around him. And while we have a new and improved humble Steve by the end of Season 3, he still struggles with not having a partner as he explained to Robin that she was, “Better for me.” He constantly defines himself by whom he’s with romantically, a trope that the Duffers explore with nuance through Steve’s journey of self-discovery and will continue to explore into our current season.
We open Season 4 with Steve confused about how to handle his multiple relationships, as he still believes that figuring out his romantic life will make him whole. Robin is also stressed with similar issues, but Steve gives her the same advice she gave him in Season 3, “Be yourself.” Both former ice cream pirates are now employees at Family Video, as Steve tries to adapt to change more frequently. These qualities grow as Steve becomes more independent and separates himself from high school and the Hawkins’ kids. But thanks to our new villain Vecna, Hawkins quickly falls apart, and the kids need Uncle Steve once again. Unfortunately, he's still vulnerable to regressing to his former self, especially being around the kids and Nancy. But in truth to his journey, through adulthood and his hero arc, when danger is near, Steve reluctantly goes back to babysitting as he tries to help prove Eddie’s (Joseph Quinn) innocence and help fix Hawkins.
Even though Steve grows apart from his past self, he holds himself responsible for the lives of others and his home, even the safety of an ostensible stranger like Eddie. Because, after all, Steve believes in principles like, “Innocent until proven guilty, all that Constitutional shit.” A few Scooby Gang scenes later with some solid detective work – can’t credit our guy here too much – the crew finds a gate at Lovers Lake and believe that they can stop Vecna from causing more harm to Hawkins. Steve, now with Eddie, Nancy, and Robin in the middle of Lovers Lake, decides that it has to be him that swims down and checks out Watergate. Steve begins to undress and announces something that resembles a consistent character trait of his reluctant hero arc, “Somebody's gotta go down there and check this thing out. Unless one of you three can top being a Hawkins High Swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then… it’s gotta be me. No complaints, all right?” Steve doesn’t want to save the world and be the hero, he just wants to find happiness and feel love. But when people are in danger, he becomes the most fully fleshed-out character in the series, fulfilling his journey and arc.
Steve is simultaneously the audience’s stand-in character and the heart of Stranger Things. There are many arguments for how this series has found longevity and Steve’s journey might have the most evidence. Defining adulthood wasn’t through a relationship or social status, but with the self-awareness to acknowledge his responsibilities. The cool uncle, the thoughtful coach, and the humble friend that you can confide in, Steve Harrington is anything but a failure at the end of Season 4, Volume 1. We can only hope that he’s given more screen time to evolve, as one day he could take the reins as sheriff of Hawkins, Indiana. Eddie Munson leaves you with this insightful quote about our guy: “Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter, in fact. Kid worships you, dude. You have no idea. I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually… a good dude.”