🔗 Share this article

“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into preserved goods and firearms.” That bit of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and boasting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its sequel rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Delights and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new revelations rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters joyously wreck 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 auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, 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 Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing 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 anarchic defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement 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. Weird, right? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was essential to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. 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 robust worldly wisdom from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.