🔗 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 sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Honestly, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the theme that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fixation

Naturally, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its sequel rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Delights and Cultural Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enhanced frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it offered was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my go-to cinematic solace.