“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Honestly, consider my perspective.
When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the theme that resonates the most.
Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and boasting snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.
Dante’s original typically gets all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its sequel seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.
As I grew, new revelations rewarded multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate 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) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.
The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.
While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze 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 informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of mocking 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 cartoonish rebelliousness and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.
When I experienced a abrupt familial death not long ago, 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? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was necessary to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.
Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.
It’s robust worldly wisdom from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.