🔗 Share this article

“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the theme that resonates the most.

A Youthful Obsession

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, 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 thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and boasting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Discoveries and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I matured, new understandings enriched frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film varying versions of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of poking fun at those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This anarchic rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The nostalgic calm it provided was necessary to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives 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 understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.