Fernando and Fury: How Stranger Things Made Suburban Motherhood Absolutely Fierce
There’s something utterly perfect about Stranger Things Season 5 choosing ABBA’s “Fernando” as the soundtrack to suburban chaos. While Season 4 gave us Kate Bush’s ethereal “Running Up That Hill” scoring Max’s triumph over darkness, this latest installment opts for Swedish disco as Karen Wheeler faces down a Demogorgon in her own bathroom. It’s camp, it’s brilliant, and it’s exactly the kind of tonal whiplash that makes the Duffer Brothers’ Netflix juggernaut so addictively watchable.
Episode 2 of the final season—cleverly titled as a callback to the series premiere—moves beyond the table-setting of its predecessor and serves us something infinitely more satisfying. The ingredients? One clueless suburban couple, a wine-fueled evening, an interdimensional monster, and the kind of maternal instinct that transcends dimensions.
For five glorious seasons, Karen and Ted Wheeler have maintained an almost Olympic-level commitment to obliviousness. While their children battled shadow monsters and saved Hawkins repeatedly, these two remained blissfully absorbed in their wine, golf, and tragically outdated wallpaper. But when a Demogorgon crashes through their carefully constructed denial and sets its sights on young Holly, even the Wheelers must confront reality—and they do so spectacularly.
Karen Wheeler’s transformation from passive housewife to fierce protector unfolds like a masterclass in character evolution. First, she shields Holly beneath bathwater and bubbles, a Madonna-and-child tableau rendered absurd by its supernatural context. Then, armed with nothing but a shattered wine bottle and sheer maternal rage, she attacks. It’s visceral, unexpected, and absolutely magnificent. This is no longer the woman who once gazed longingly at Billy Hargrove poolside—this is a mother unleashed.
Ted, too, rises to the occasion in his own bumbling way, proving that beneath the cardigans and cluelessness lives genuine courage. Their efforts, though valiant, aren’t enough—the Demogorgon escapes with Holly, leaving devastation and a portal to the Upside Down in the Wheeler’s foyer. Talk about a renovation nightmare.
As Nancy and Eleven arrive moments too late, the episode pivots into familiar territory: El tears through the Upside Down searching for Holly, while David Harbour’s Hopper delivers peak overprotective-father energy, constantly berating her about safety. Meanwhile, Winona Ryder’s Joyce smothers Will with anxiety despite his obvious psychic connection to Vecna proving potentially invaluable. These parent-child dynamics, while emotionally resonant, feel somewhat recycled from previous seasons—wet blankets dampening what should be high-stakes urgency.
Far more compelling is the episode’s emotional architecture: Lucas prophetically telling comatose Max that the final battle has begun, the Wheeler children spiraling at the hospital, Dustin appearing bloodied before Steve and Jonathan. These moments crackle with the tension we crave, reminding us why we’ve invested years in these characters.
With five episodes plus a two-hour finale remaining, Stranger Things is orchestrating its endgame—the ultimate confrontation between Eleven and Vecna, good versus evil, telekinesis versus malevolence. The pieces are moving into position on a chessboard four years in the making, since Will’s original disappearance set this entire supernatural saga into motion.
But it’s Karen Wheeler’s bathroom brawl that lingers. In a series built on nostalgia and monster-fighting teenagers, it’s the suburban mom wielding broken glass who delivers Season 5’s most unexpectedly iconic moment. Sometimes the real heroes wear mom jeans and drink Chardonnay. Who knew?
