“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life guidance. Seriously, consider my perspective.
When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, most of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that resonates the most.
Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes 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 non-chain rental store and sporting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.
Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, thanks largely to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its successor rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. 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 psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.
As I grew, new insights rewarded frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.
The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.
While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing 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 anarchic defiance and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.
When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was needed to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.
Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. 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 very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.