When I was younger, much younger, the movie “Gremlins ” was released. I was twelve when we went to see it in the theatre and let me tell you, this was not a movie for kids.
It was a horror film.
I know Spike laughed all the time, and he seemed to generally be goofing around at first. But that was only until he began killing anything that moved. And he didn’t just kill, he killed with wild glee. He blew people up and lit them on fire. He even killed his evil Gremlin buddies and laughed about it.
And all Gismo could do was gurgle and look cute.
The movie stigmatized me. I was horrified beyond the norm. I expected to see a movie filled with cute furry little animals and I got the complete opposite. I experienceda horror that changed my whole life.
Gremlins gave me nightmares. At twelve years of age, I awoke in the middle of the night with a vision of my kittens exploding in the microwave. I saw power tools chasing me, ready to gnash and gnaw my flesh to the bone. I was afraid to close my eyes again. I immediately hopped in the bed with my kid sister. I couldn’t sleep alone.
The Gremlins were in the house.
To this day, I have not lived down my Gremlins nightmares. They are now a part of my fragile psyche and I still get cold bumps when I see a still shot from the movie. I’ve never watched it a second time.
Last week, I downloaded some classics for my two young nephews to watch, movies that I loved as a kid. E.T. and Goonies and other such films.
I told my sister what I was doing and she paused. She looked at me and said one thing, “You didn’t download ‘Gremlins’ did you?”
Then she laughed. Hard.
I blame Gremlins for everything wrong in my life.