“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Truly, consider my perspective.
When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, most of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that echoes the loudest.
Of course, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. As a child, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and boasting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.
Dante’s first film typically gets all the praise, thanks mostly because of its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.
As I matured, new understandings enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate 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 second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.
The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.
While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of poking fun at 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 gleefully confessed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.
When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The nostalgic calm it furnished was essential to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.
Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.
It’s robust worldly wisdom from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.