🔗 Share this article

“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, bespectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, the majority of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Obsession

Understandably, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an independent video outlet and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Delights and Societal Nuggets

As I got older, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, 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 real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed 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 desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it provided was essential to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.