‘Ingrained in My Mind’: Why Gremlins 2: The New Batch Is My Comfort Movie
“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” That bit of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Honestly, consider my perspective.
When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone 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 underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.
A Youthful Obsession
Naturally, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and boasting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.
Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its sequel seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.
Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture Easter Eggs
As I grew, new revelations rewarded frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his genuine article inspiration.
The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.
A Persistent Legacy
While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.
When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family 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. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it offered was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.
Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.
It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.
