🔗 Share this article

“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, a large portion of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Obsession

Understandably, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased 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 tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its successor rarely gets 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 lock myself inside and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Discoveries and Societal Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enriched multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters gleefully trash 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 eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner 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 genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy ahead of its time.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

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 felt compelled 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 cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns 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 always be my comfort movie.