🔗 Share this article

“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into preserved goods and firearms.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Obsession

Naturally, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. In my youth, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Rewards and Cultural Nuggets

As I matured, new insights rewarded frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member 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 modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This anarchic 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 endured a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was needed to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, invest all your resources 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 comfort movie.