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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fascination

Of course, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and boasting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. Nevertheless, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect 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. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Discoveries and Cultural Nuggets

As I grew, new revelations rewarded repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused real estate tycoon 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. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his genuine article inspiration.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “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 seriously as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was needed to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through 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 be like them: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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