🔗 Share this article

“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. Growing up, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case almost certainly acquired from an non-chain rental store and sporting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Discoveries and Societal References

As I matured, new understandings enriched multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts 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 ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of mocking those who loved its silly-yet-sincere 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 commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a abrupt familial death not long ago, 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. Odd, no? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.