🔗 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 shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, hear me out.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, most of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the theme that resonates the most.

An Early Life Fixation

Of course, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. Growing up, we were limited to a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an non-chain rental store and featuring snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the praise, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Delights and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I matured, new understandings rewarded frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his genuine article inspiration.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing 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 Looney Tunes-esque defiance and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was essential to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

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: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms 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 eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.