🔗 Share this article

“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, most of the fang-bearing creatures that occupy Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that resonates the most.

A Youthful Obsession

Naturally, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. 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 chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an independent video outlet and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the accolades, thanks largely to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. However, its successor rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new revelations enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures 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 later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement recently, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my feelgood film.