“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Truly, listen to my reasoning.
When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, the majority of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.
An Early Life Fixation
Naturally, my connection with 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 follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay embedding themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.
Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its successor seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.
Hidden Rewards and Cultural References
As I got older, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.
The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a real-life “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, 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.
An Enduring Legacy
While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This anarchic defiance and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.
When I went through a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was astonished to realize that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff 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 can’t control. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.
It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.
