🔗 Share this article

“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the theme that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Fixation

Naturally, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. However, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Delights and Societal Easter Eggs

As I grew, new revelations rewarded frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, 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 real-life “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing 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 cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

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 comfort movie.