🔗 Share this article

“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into preserved goods and firearms.” That bit of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

An Early Life Obsession

Naturally, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an independent video outlet and boasting growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the praise, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Rewards and Cultural Nuggets

As I grew, new insights enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of poking fun at those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic defiance and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it offered was essential to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to be like them: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.