🔗 Share this article

“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Truly, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Obsession

Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its follow-up, 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 immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks mostly because of its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its sequel seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Discoveries and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I got older, new understandings enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize 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 ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a real-life “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. 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. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the specific aim 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 cartoonish insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it offered was necessary to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.