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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Obsession

Naturally, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and featuring grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks mostly because of its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Discoveries and Societal Easter Eggs

As I got older, new insights enhanced repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at 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 happily revealed. 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 endured a abrupt familial death recently, 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? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it offered was essential to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

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