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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life guidance. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the theme that resonates the most.

A Youthful Fascination

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. Growing up, we only had 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 likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, 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 remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Discoveries and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new insights rewarded multiple watches, elevating the fun of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover 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? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

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.