🔗 Share this article

“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Honestly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Obsession

Understandably, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. Growing up, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an off-brand video shop and featuring snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Rewards and Societal References

As I grew, new understandings rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a abrupt familial death not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it provided was essential to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my feelgood film.