🔗 Share this article

“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, articulate, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms 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 portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Honestly, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the theme that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Fixation

Understandably, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. Growing up, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its sequel seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance 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. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of mocking those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine 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 determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family not long ago, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it provided was necessary to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s strong life advice from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.