🔗 Share this article

“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Seriously, 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, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fixation

Naturally, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an off-brand video shop and sporting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the accolades, thanks largely to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new understandings enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest 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 specific aim of poking fun at those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had given 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 understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: embrace the chaos, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.