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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends 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 comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that resonates the most.

An Early Life Fascination

Understandably, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. However, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Discoveries and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new understandings enhanced frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing 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 happily revealed. This anarchic insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured 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. Odd, no? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was needed to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my feelgood film.