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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fascination

Of course, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. Growing up, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its sequel 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 long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Discoveries and Cultural References

As I matured, new revelations rewarded frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his genuine article inspiration.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing 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 cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it provided was essential to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.