🔗 Share this article

“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, bespectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fascination

Understandably, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. 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 thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an independent video outlet and boasting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the accolades, 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 infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Rewards and Societal Easter Eggs

As I matured, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at 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 happily revealed. This cartoonish insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The nostalgic calm it offered was needed to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

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