Sequels come with a certain degree of baggage. That is to say, the sequel’s greatest enemy is expectation, more often than not brought on by the love and adoration which accompanies its predecessor. After all, if the original is without its fans, why even bother with a second?
My first exposure to Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990) came in the wake of watching the first film after years of speculation and dread. As delighted as I was when I finally saw it, I was even more ecstatic to learn that the film’s sequel came again from director Joe Dante. Surely, the follow up would be a worthy successor and fall directly in line with what came before.
From the moment Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny began squabbling atop the Warner Brother’s logo heading into the movie, I knew something was different. Gremlins (1984) had been silly at times, certainly, but, at its core, it felt like a horror film. This was something different, a movie which took the general mold laid out by Gremlins and then warped it, exaggerating what was already exaggerated to begin with and bringing it more fully into the Looney Tunes territory its originator occasionally played at.
Admittedly, my initial reaction was… disappointment. This was not the movie that I expected. Not what I thought I wanted. Instead of the quirky townspeople who populated the original, Gremlins 2 featured cartoonish archetypes, parodying the more serious beats of Gremlins and, I felt, taking the heavy meta-movie-lampooning bar scene from the original and stretching it out to feature length.
Oddly, I am and always have been a big fan of comedy, big, small or otherwise. But for whatever reason, Gremlins 2 didn’t connect and I opted not to revisit the movie for many years after that. Of course, Gremlins remained a Christmas staple and as the years wore on I became increasingly curious about the sequel. What was it? Why was it? Why did it seem to have an ever expanding cult following?
I finally returned to The New Batch in my late teens when I was diving into horror. Fresh faced and with no expectation, I watched the movie with new eyes. And this time, I loved it.
I found the hyper-reality employed by the narrative charming and fitting for the characters. I loved the silly people populating the film, particularly Daniel Clamp, the somewhat hapless billionaire who means well but seems to drift toward evil if only because wealth dictates such in a capitalist society. But most of all? I loved the Gremlins.
On second viewing, with time, age and genre knowledge on my side, I saw a filmmaker playing in a fantastical sandbox of elaborate creatures and make-up effects. I watched mouth agape as the sequel reveled in sending up not only the movie which spawned it, but the horror genre and the notions of sequels in general. I marveled at the unfettered creativity on display. In short, I had a blast.
The movie is excitedly working overtime in every direction, but what ties the whole thing together is the incredibly impressive practical effects on display. The sheer number and variety of the Gremlins onscreen is astounding and makes for a film devoid of dull moments. Few sequences bring this to life better than when the Gremlins begin to ingest and inject themselves with experimental liquids in the laboratory.
On Charles Haas’ page, the scene brings to life the madcap, cartoonish explosion of chaos and fun the film embodies, throwing a great deal at the viewer in a short period of time while still attempting to honor the legacy of the Gremlin mythos. Onscreen, the scene evolves, simultaneously simplifying some of the big ideas on the page and expanding some of the broader character moments in lieu of building toward the epic in scope notions of the scripted scene. When looked at together, it’s easy to see why the page, though perfectly balancing an array of tones and broad comedy, was made all the more strong by the vision of the director who interpreted it.
THE SCENE
Scientists halt their conversation upon nothing a Gremlin in the lab. The Gremlin drinks from a “Vegetable Medley” mix and begins sprouting vegetables all over its body. Another consumes a “Brain” vial, causing several of the scientists concern, including Dr. Catheter. He makes gargling noises and shakes uncontrollably as Dr. Catheter attempts to calm him down. The Brain Gremlin falls and then emerges as a well spoken creature of high intelligence. Another Gremlin drinks a “Bat” vial, prompting the Brain Gremlin to pontificate on its possibilities and injecting it with a vial of “genetic sunscreen”. After this, the Brain Gremlin encourages the Bat Gremlin to fly out into the day and see the sights that New York City has to offer. The Bat Gremlin takes flight and disappears amongst the skyscrapers.
THE SCRIPT
THE SCREEN
The scene opens with Wally the scientist bragging to his peers, twins Louis and Martin, about his genetically modified tomatoes. He bounces one against the wall and catches it as they discuss durability and taste. The scene does not appear in the revised script but establishes the sense of whimsy which will inhabit what’s to follow while painting the scientists more in the light of excited adolescence than responsible adulthood.
The shot evolves, panning over to find a Gremlin positioned amongst the various twisting vials, tubes and some vegetables connected by conduit. The familiar sound of “Yum, yum” which has become synonymous with the green creatures sounds out just as the image cuts to a Gremlin brandishing a vial. He downs it. Again, the three scientists fill the frame, this time at a low, canted angle as Wally asks if that was his “vegetable medley”.
The script opens with that very moment, however depicting Wally as shouting out as opposed to curiously questioning:
Before Wally can stop him, a GREMLIN goes over to the potted VEGETABLE PLANTS with TUBES connecting them to a glass vial. He grabs the vial, EATS it… and stands still for a moment…
The film holds on the Gremlins’ transformation for a little longer than is suggested in the script. All that’s written is that his EARS turn into leafy clumps of ROMAINE LETTUCE, which does occur onscreen. Immediately after downing the vial, the creatures’ ears shrivel and tighten as if being vacuumed sealed from the inside. While the script continues with Wally attempting to intervene while the Gremlin grabs another vial from a CAULIFLOWER PLANT, the film holds while small tomatoes burst forth as blemishes on the Gremlins’ face.
Also unscripted is the scene-dressing occurring here. Everything from the Gremlin’s incessant belching to the many other Gremlins who suddenly spring forth in the background giggling madly is unmentioned in the script. The dialogue occurring amongst the onlooking scientists is also excluded from the draft, calling attention yet again to the lack of awareness and understanding that they have in the face of the world they are attempting to genetically lord over (i.e. “What is that noise they’re making? / “I think they’re laughing” / “Reptiles don’t laugh!”).
The script seems to suggest a multitude of Gremlins going after different concoctions here, saying, CHAOS ensues, as more Gremlins go after more vials and the scientists’ efforts to stop them result mainly in trashed equipment. I imagine the idea was to glimpse several different Gremlin permutations, either hinting at what was to come or simply throwing as many small, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it variations at the screen as possible. The only one specifically referenced is the female Gremlin as the script mentions a Gremlin trying a vial marked SEX HORMONE.
The film forgoes the excitement mentioned here, focusing instead on a small string of events that accomplishes the same story goals without going so big so quickly. Immediately following the vegetable Gremlin transformation, the image cuts to a glass test vial with the image of a brain printed on it. A scaly, three fingered claw reaches into the frame and grabs it. As the hand disappears frame right, the camera racks focus to Dr. Catheter who is entering the lab while clutching a giant pea pod.
At this point, the script and the film occupy the same thread again with some slight variations. In the script, the vial the Gremlin grabs is attached to a BRAIN that sits in a tank of saline solution as opposed to just being out on a counter top. In the script, the scientists’ dialogue is more stunted and shocked, as they exclaim, “Oh no…” and “not the brain solution!” In the film, the dialogue in this moment is handled exclusively by Dr. Catheter, who speaks calmly and with an overt degree of seriousness suggesting his deep seated belief in power and control.
“Nice boy, that’s a good creature,” Dr. Catheter says as he approaches the Gremlin who’s downed the Brain juice. In a low angle close up the doctor attempts to bribe the Gremlin, saying, “I can get you diseases.” The Gremlin ignores him and begins to shake violently, as is scripted:
Then, suddenly, the transformation takes hold, in thrashing Jekyll-and-Hyde HISTRIONICS that send the Gremlin rolling on the floor.
Onscreen the Gremlin slams his head on the counter a few times and then falls offscreen. Suddenly his shadow is visible against the wall, still shaking and struggling to fight the oncoming change. A series of recognizable, cartoon sound effects sound out amidst the din of the lab while the scientists watch in silent awe. When the Gremlin finally reemerges, it’s again, as scripted, he wears a pair of HORN-RIMMED GLASSES, and SPEAKS FLUENTLY in a new VOICE, similar to that of GEORGE PLIMPTON.
At first struggling to speak in the scratchy, croaky voice the viewer has become accustomed to hearing, the words, tonality and inflection alter almost instantaneously as he gains composure, delivering a huge chunk of intelligent dialogue. The words appear identical to those in the script. The Gremlin speaks straight on, directly into the camera, almost as though he’s talking to the audience rather than the scientists. The tonal shift from the classic-horror tinged transformation to the polite, educated discourse aimed directly at the audience is so stark and surprising, that the thrust of the movie is fundamentally altered from that point forward.
What had been hinted at is now firmly in place, the film is a live-action Warner Brothers cartoon, harkening back to the glory days of the animated medium. As he speaks, a new Gremlin enters the frame in the background, very interested in a glass vial marked with the image of a bat. The image intercuts from the Brain Gremlin to the scientists still watching. They appear at a canted, low angle from behind the Brain Gremlin, appearing there as spectators rather than participants.
The script mentions that the other Gremlins are instantly bored with this guy and that they start turning ANIMALS loose from their cages. As before, the scene holds on the featured Gremlins and doesn’t yet fully expand the scope of the transformations or the actions of the Gremlins. Moreover, the film positions the Brain Gremlin as a leader immediately rather than undermining him upon introduction.
As part of this streamlining, what is a BAT who’s being desensitized to light for messaging purposes is altered to simply be a test tube with a picture of the animal. Gone is a moment where the Gremlin is depicted as retrieving a VIAL connected by surgical tubing to the bat’s body. Instead, the film holds on the Bat Gremlin in a wide shot as it sprouts wide, scaly, dragon-like wings. The Brain Gremlin ponders this for a moment and then is seen extracting a blue liquid from a vat with a syringe. He can be heard saying, “Ahh genetic sunblock, yes,” playing at the sort of plot contrivances the cartoonish endeavor of rule-less genetic splicing offers a group of rambunctious monsters.
Beginning on the logo of one of the scientist’s Splice O’ Life uniforms, the shot tracks in toward the Gremlins. The scientists watch with interest, holding their chins and listening to the Brain Gremlin’s words thoughtfully. The Brain Gremlin injects the Bat Gremlin and continues to speak, presenting the air of a tenured professor presiding over a class of entitled elites.
At the suggestion that the Bat Gremlin will be going somewhere, the script reads, The Bat Gremlin’s expression asks: ‘Where I’ll be going?’ In the film, one of the scientists asks the question directly, receiving an unscripted response from Dr. Catheter: “We can’t let him get away. All he has to do is eat 3 or 4 children and there’d be the most appalling publicity.” The Bat Gremlin shows no confusion in the film and TAKES OFF, soaring near the ceiling as the twin scientists chase him.
There’s more of a struggle inside the lab in the screenplay, the scientists chasing the Bat Gremlin and calling to him, the Brain Gremlin encouraging him to throw off the old constraints. In the film, the Bat Gremlin hovers above the four scientists for a moment while they bat their arms at him and shout a few perfunctory statements (“Catch him!”, “Don’t let it get away!”, etc.). Still, both the script and the film culminate in the same manner as the Bat Gremlin heads toward the window.
…and SMASHES THROUGH IT, leaving a jagged bat silhouette in the glass behind him. The other Gremlins shrink from the invading rays of sunlight, but the Bat Gremlin flies free…
The film plays out the same, with the added detail that the jagged bat silhouette appears as a carbon copy of Batman’s iconic insignia. A joke which hammers home what not just the Gremlins, but the movie has fully transformed into from that moment onward. The scene concludes with the Bat Gremlin flying freely between the skyscrapers of a bright, sunny New York City.
No more rules. No more limitations. After this, anything is possible.
THE BLOODY CONCLUSION
“We throw a lot of stuff in this picture,” director Joe Dante said in his feature commentary for Gremlins 2 found on the film’s blu-ray disc release (Found here). “It’s a lot of fun.”
Sequels bare a heavy weight and, perhaps, rightfully so. They owe their existence to their predecessor certainly, but their mission should be the same as any original property. The best sequels are often reinventions, they honor their history, certainly, but they become something new. Something different. They defy the very nature of their existence and transform into something altogether unique.
Years later, after I finally decided to give the movie another chance, I had an epiphany. It occurred to me that the crime for which I had punished Gremlins 2 in my head had been less about the film onscreen and more about my expectations as a viewer. I learned an all-important lesson that day: watch a movie for what it is, not for what you think it should be.
And the scene in the laboratory is a perfect representation of what Gremlins 2 is: fun. It’s the moment where the film takes off into uncharted, cartoon territory, complete with belching supplied by lead actor Zach Galligan (“He’s a champagne belcher,” Joe Dante remarked on the commentary) and actor Christopher Lee carrying around a giant pea pod which Joe Dante mentioned as being “an iconic image”.
More than the silly sight gags and broad character comedy, the practical effects are the real stars in this scene. From the animatronic gremlin puppet which sprouts vegetables on its face in real time to the stop motion Bat Gremlin put together by Doug Beswick complete with realistic shadows cast upon its wings from the skyscrapers of New York, the scene represents everything impressive about the movie’s visual accomplishments.
Of course, the crux of the scene was the Brian Gremlin’s transformation and subsequent eloquence, something that was brought to life by complex technology at the time, as Joe Dante explains in his commentary track.
“This technology that’s moving his lips is actually fairly unique. It was originally designed to record and play back light cues for rock concerts, but using the system you could program the movements of the puppet at half speed and then play them back at full speed with the timecode on the audio track… it was all repeatable. So every time you do a take… it would all be in synch. Even the tongue was synchronized to the mouth.”
Gremlins was an important film to me. It represented a certain tone. A mood that I could not escape when first walking into Gremlins 2. But, divorced from the first, the sequel offers a different sort of tone. A mood all its own. One that’s fun, inventive and wholly unique. A sense of fun and whimsy unlike anything else I’ve ever encountered in a creature feature and something that seems so irreverent that it feels like it snuck out of Hollywood’s backlots in secret as opposed to having been made to be released to the public on purpose.
Gremlins 2: The New Batch is the kind of movie that shows the potential of the sequel. A movie that nods to the first and, like its scaly, sinister stars, transforms into something new, evidenced not only by the plot but by the interesting ways in which the hilarious and epic scope of the page morphed into the streamlined and practical effects driven sequence seen onscreen. Fitting then that my own opinion would go through such a transformation as well.
For, all of these years later, I full heartedly agree with Mr. Dante’s assessment. He did throw a lot of stuff in this picture… and it is a lot of fun.
Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990): Written by Charles Haas & Directed by Joe Dante
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