Gremlins, Christmas, and Five Cocktails to Close Out the 2020 Holiday
Image from AMC.
Flick: Gremlins
In 1984, a business man—an inventor—went to China Town to expand the market for his inventions and to find the perfect Christmas gift for his son back home. What he brought back was the perfect metaphoric representation of 2020 Pandemic America instead, where the young clamor for money and personal satisfaction while jobless factory workers blame foreigners for their misfortune instead of the rich elitists who sold their businesses to greedy investors, and where absolute catastrophe could have been averted if only a young American would have adhered to two of the three simple rules that would have prevented the deaths of his neighbors and friends. If this sounds like the sort of Holiday you’re living right now then buckle up, Gremlins is the tragically perfect analog to your year.
“These colors don’t run!”—Gizmo (paraphrased).
Gremlins was released in June 1984 as a hurried response to Ghostbusters, and, with nothing more to choose from that summer besides ghosts or gremlins, movie-goers quickly brought the movie to second that month (behind Ghostbusters) and fourth that year despite the content being an odd mashup of Halloween and Christmas elements. Written by Chris Columbus (The Goonies, Home Alone) and directed by Joe Dante (The Howling, Small Soldiers), Steven Spielberg was the executive producer (which, if you look into it, is a catchall title for someone with money and influence who’s going to tell the crew what they think should be going on) and slapped his name on this Christmas burrito built from every holiday movie since the 50’s rolled up with the quintessential weirdness and absurd skepticism that the 80’s has become known for.
The plot is pretty loose. The main character, Billy, is the son of an inventor who, despite being a complete failure, owns a spacious home in upstate New York in the small, sleepy town of Kingston Falls. The town itself was patterned after the one in It’s a Wonderful Life. Billy’s dad presents him with a Mogwi—a small, furry creature that would inspire the Furby millennials have nightmares about—and never minding the fact that no one bats an eye when Billy’s dad unveils a literal demon to the family as their new pet, he explains to everyone the three simple rules they have to obey when raising the Mogwi:
Spoiler alert: nothing is sacred.
Progressively, Billy breaks the three rules in the most American way possible—through lazy ignorance. He takes a picture of Gizmo (his Mogwi) with a Polaroid camera, damn near killing it; a cup of water is spilled on it because he’s left a cup directly near Gizmo resulting in more Mogwi spawning from it; and he feeds the litter of beasts after midnight because the mischievous creatures chewed the cord to his clock but, at that point, the inertia of his own bad decisions (and his inability to notice that it’s been 11:20pm for hours) has snowballed into the eventual destruction of small town America. After they feed, and become clawed, lizard-like children-sized monsters, they proceed to prank people in murderous and ironic ways, parodying humans along the way. Eventually, Billy, his girl Kate, the good Mogwi Gizmo, and Barney the dog blow up the movie theater where all the gremlins have gathered and set off to kill Stripe—their leader—before he can get himself wet again, which they do.
Without spending too long talking about the intricacies of the movie, it’s worth noting that the flick clearly lays out the issues we’re dealing with almost forty years later. The disparaging wealth gap and working class frustration that’s aimed at a distant and easy to blame straw man; middle class America’s lazy apathy and ignorance; and the basic courtesy of obeying simple rules to keep others safe. By the end of the movie, many are dead and the town barely salvageable because Billy couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. It’s important to note, too, that Kate (who, like many of us, are sick of the Holiday season because we’re told we should be happy during it no matter what) has to educate young, dumb Billy on basic, real-world things while he runs around playing at being a hero (even though he’s literally being saved all the time by everyone else).
Local police unable to separate their feelings from their job— that and other news at eleven.
It’s wild to think that, in 1984, this movie was fun and outside the box and, let’s be honest, a classic that many of us now have forgotten the plot of. Through 2020 goggles, it’s almost a documentary, and why wouldn’t it be? We’re suffering in the modern age from the fallout of symptoms we ignored decades ago when, in those classic 80’s movies, we laughed off as if they were absurd. Murray Fetterman’s xenophobic, conspiratorial outbursts aren’t just crazy, they’re justified. You know, because of the Big One? Dubaya-dubaya-aye-aye? Never would we have thought to extrapolate on that left-handed caricature and project him forty years into the future where Fetterman would think Bill Gates wants to microchip us and that COVID-19 is a deep state hoax to control people, but here we are in the last days of 2020 like the final moves of Gremlins: after much loss and suffering, and some hard conversation with loved ones, the vile leader with the bad hair has finally been dispatched so we can begin to rebuild. There’s hope again, but for what we don’t really know, something good or at least something fair. But whatever may come, we have to remember the basic rules: to be vigilant and not allow the problems to multiply, to definitely not feed the monsters but, when someone inevitably does, to make sure we drag the monsters into the light where they can be dealt with in a necessary and gruesome way.
(Also, I hope we don’t see a 2021 that’s like Gremlins 2 because they get super powers in that movie and I, for one, am not mentally or spiritually equipped to deal with a super-powered anything.)
Gremlin Cocktails
There’s no way to summarize the wild complexity, and sheer absurdity, of Gremlins into a single cocktail. Instead, there are five varied and somewhat holiday-themed cocktails that feel like maybe they’re out of place but also in a very specific and familiar place. That place is where we are now, in December 2020, a how-did-we-get-here moment that’s both terrifying and baffling and do we need a drink? Yes, of course we do. Just don’t spill it on the Mogwi, please.
Kate’s Black Christmas
The trauma of learning Santa isn’t real.
In Gremlins, Kate’s dealing with lasting existential trauma that she doesn’t bury with holiday cheer like the others, or in alcohol like Murray Fetterman. Instead, Kate is active, positive, and patient. It’s hard to overlook the complete idiocy of her father and the circumstances of his death, a fact that was almost removed from the movie (for obvious comedic reasons), and who knows what she sees in Billy, too. Maybe the same dumb thing her mother saw in Kate’s father, a guy who thought it made sense to climb down an actual chimney for Christmas—or the writers who thought it was actually possible to do that in most houses, circa 1980.
Kate’s Black Christmas is an eggnog twist with sweet sherry, bold scotch, and activated charcoal the color of Kate’s dead, withered soul. The charcoal doesn’t add flavor, so feel free to omit it without severe ramifications beyond acknowledging how easy it is for you to remove the stain of Kate’s loss while she lives on with the reek of her father’s Santa-corpse in her memory forever.
Recipe: Kate’s Black Christmas
Makes four 5oz servings.
2 Eggs
4oz Heavy Cream (1/2c)
6oz Whole Milk (3/4c)
70g White Sugar (1/3c)
Optional: 1/2tsp Activated Charcoal Powder*
4oz Pedro Ximénez Sherry** (1/2c)
2.5oz Islay Single Malt Scotch (1/4c + 1Tbsp)
In a blender, add each item (in order) one at a time, blending for 30-60s between. If you’re using a blender that cooks its contents (like a Vitamix) then reduce this time to 10-15s.
Serve immediately or store in the fridge in an airtight container for up to a year (no joke).
Drink and think about that Christmas [explosion in distance] when Santa never arrived, and he never would.
Notes: *The benefits and dangers of Activated Charcoal exist in the realm of too much, as in, don’t take too much. For this volume, 1/2tsp is nothing but coloring, but don’t consume one if you’ve taken any special meds (like birth control) or vitamins within 4 hours of taking the other.
**Pedro Ximénez is a type of sweet grape and sherry is wine make from those grapes and fortified with brandy. Not all sherries have the same flavor and profile, and Pedro Ximénez Sherry is sweet and figgy, and you can usually nab it for between $12 and $30, depending on brand.
Mrs. Deagle’s Little Trip
Defenestration is a vacation only the rich deserve.
Mrs. Deagle is every rich villain from movies with quotidian plots that you grew up watching. She’s Ebenezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol and Henry Potter from It’s A Wonderful Life. She’s also a little Cruella de Vil from 101 Dalmatians and the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz (you half expect her feet to curl behind the seat of her stair lift in the snow). I bet, too, if we were given a long, expansive look at her backstory, we’d find out she supported the Third Reich in WWII. I mean, her cats are all named after money. The only good resolution from this movie is that this obviously evil character got what we wanted her to get.
Mrs. Deagle’s Little Trip is a tiki inspired vacation away from the old bat and the comedic tuba music that follows her throughout the streets of Kingston Falls. Our only regret is that the shock of her flight was second only to Billy’s mom murdering three gremlins with her bare hands while her son struggles to deal with, well, anything in his adult life.
Recipe: Mrs. Deagle’s Little Trip
0.5oz 151 Rum
1oz Aged Rum
1oz Jamaican Rum
0.5oz Giffard’s Banana de Brasil
0.5oz Orgeat
0.5oz Spiced Syrup
1oz Lime Juice
2oz Mandarin Juice
Peychaud’s Float
Add all ingredients except for the Peychaud’s bitters to a tin with ice and shake for 10-15s.
Add crushed ice to a hurricane glass, or other tall tiki mug; strain drink into glass.
Dash Peychaud’s bitters on top, spreading it around so it creates a bright red layer, about 4-8 dashes.
Don’t open the door to carolers. Like, ever. Just drink and be rich.
Fetterman’s Conspiracy
There’s foreign parts in yer car! And gremlins in yer watch! And the government can listen to yer thoughts! And masks make yer immune system self-aware! And the robots in yer brain can’t stand the sound of yer thoughts and they want out because yer immune system is self-aware and, like, a bad roommate.
Murray Fetterman is meant to be the fool who speaks truths that everyone ignores until it’s too late. And, in the context of the movie, he is right—and it is too late when everyone realizes that. But imagine, he’s been talking nonsense for weeks at least, maybe months—a whole year! Who would’ve guess that of all the crazy, xenophobic and ignorant things Fetterman’s thrown into the face of anyone who’ll listen that gremlins would be the one to believe? What’s next, Fetterman? Look into your crystal beer glass and tell us what’s to come in 2021. I hope it doesn’t involve dragons. I mean, imagine dragons. We can’t deal with dragons.
Fetterman’s Conspiracy is a Sakura Martini with the addition of orange bitters and something dark beneath the surface that slowly permeates the drink—a Pasubio Amaro ice wedge. The longer you sit with Fetterman’s Conspiracy the more it changes and—you’ll have to admit eventually—the more it grows on you. You’ll be ranting on a corner in no time!
Recipe: Fetterman’s Conspiracy
2.5oz Gekkeikan Sake
1oz Roku Gin (or other floral, Japanese gin)
0.25oz Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur
3 Dashes Orange Bitters
1oz Pasubio Amaro + 2oz Water
Mix the Pasubio and water together and place in a rocks glass. Sit the rocks glass at an angle in the freezer for 2-4 hours, until solid.
Add the other four ingredients to a tin with ice and stir for 30-50 turns.
Strain into the glass over the Pasubio ice wedge and garnish with a lemon peel.
God bless the USA.
Someone Save Billy
Not the hero we need but also not the hero we deserve. Like, who let this kid have a Chinese demon for a pet? His dad? Well, who the hell’s that guy? I don’t care what he invented, that’s bad parenting right there. Oh, great. Look. Now the kid’s running head first into danger like he’s gonna—alright, fine. I’ll finish my drink and then I’ll save Billy, but not a moment before, you hear? He can hold on for a damn minute until I’m done.
Billy is supposed to be the everyman and someone with whom the audience can identify with. Good luck with that: enjoy identifying with an ignorant, milquetoast man-baby, nerds. He’s surprised to learn anything but lacks the emotional bandwidth to process it. A demon pet? Blank smile. Suicides during the holidays? Golly. He knows what a man should do but doesn’t know how to do it. His parents keep a roof over his head and his dog keeps that big bully, Mrs. Deagle, from talking real mean to him, and if it weren’t for Kate and Gizmo then Stripe the gremlin king would have made a real mess out of ol’ Billy boy.
Someone Save Billy is holiday beer cocktail that’ll put hair on your chest, or your ass—wherever it is heroes have hair, that’s where it’ll put it. Like the sword in the stone, whosoever drinks this drink has the cojones to save Billy Peltzer from whatever situation he’s found himself. Lucky you! Drink up, you’ll need it, and so will Billy.
Recipe: Someone Save Billy
1oz Root Beer Syrup*
2oz Jägermeister
4oz Great Lakes Christmas Beer (or similar holiday-spiced beer)
Add the ingredients to a tin with ice and stir for 20-40 turns.
Strain into a rocks glass with a large cube and express an orange peel over the top.
Enjoy your drink while you can. We just saw Billy run head-first into a department store after suffering a concussion with a woman and a dog chasing after a supernatural creature that procreates using water and enters a pupal state by eat after midnight (even though it’s always after midnight, isn’t it?). What we’re getting at is, someone’s gonna have to save Billy.
Notes: *To make the root beer syrup, bring your favorite root beer to a boil over high heat then reduce to medium-high and reduce to a quarter its original volume (12oz down to 3oz, for example).
Gizmo’s Pink Racecar
Gizmo is a non-binary supernatural creature who just wants to watch old movies and sing their favorite songs while hanging out with their besty and his dog and, when the chips are down, save the day. When Baba comes to take them away, Gizmo will only miss two things: their dumb human friend, Billy, and that sweet, sweet pink racecar.
Gizmo is the Robin to Billy’s Batman if Batman was also a pet rock. Gizmo’s also their brother’s keeper—or a good parent?—being the one to finish off and defeat Stripe, their wayward progeny that grew from their body. Like a fuzzy, joyful eldritch god from the pagan beliefs of yore, Gizmo giveth and taketh away, and they do it with joy in style with their fast as heck pink racecar.
Gizmo’s Pink Racecar is a non-alcoholic cocktail that’s both like their racecar and the unlikely group of Billy, Kate, and Barney—a bit of different things brought together that adds up to something surprisingly nice and refreshing and—finally—suited for a PG-13 audience.
Recipe: Gizmo’s Pink Racecar
1.5oz Giffard Aperitif syrup
1 oz Spiced Cranberry syrup*
1.5oz Lemon
4oz Tonic
Add the first four ingredients to a tin with ice and shake for 10-15s.
In a highball glass with ice, add the tonic and then top with the shaken ingredients.
This is it, the simple pleasure of all things. A little sweet and spicy, a little bitter and tart. No matter the nasty state of the world, there’s always a little something to look forward to, even if it is an ageless ancient being of questionable origin.