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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, bespectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Obsession

Understandably, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. As a child, we only had 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 probably bought from an independent video outlet and featuring grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Discoveries and Cultural References

As I grew, new revelations enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking 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 gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was surprised to find that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it offered was necessary to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being 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 forever remain my comfort movie.