Novelization fans know the majority of literary tie-ins stick closely to their source materials rather than stray from them, but whenever one does make notable changes, they take notice. Gremlins is one such case. Indeed, the late George Gipe stayed true to the spirit of that Christmas spectacle we have all come to love and […]
Gipe opened his adaptation with an undisguised, extraterrestrial origin for Gizmo and the other Mogwai (Cantonese for “monster”): “Mogturmen, the inventor of the Mogwai species, […] had set out to produce a creature that was adaptable to any climate and condition, one that could easily reproduce itself, was gentle and highly intelligent.” The author wasn’t too specific about why this Mogturmen fellow did such a thing, however, Gipe wrote that Gizmo’s creator hailed from “an era of widespread experimentation in the field of species creation — an era […] that passed into disrepute following later, unsuccessful attempts to introduce cross pollination among certain species of crawling carnivores.” So, right out of the gate, the novelization is quite out-there, even for something like Gremlins.
Pictured: Zach Galligan bandages up Gizmo.
This alien ancestry business is exclusive to Gipe’s interpretation of Gremlins, although the sequel’s novelization, penned by David Bischoff, gives the Mogwai sentience as well. Of course, Bischoff does not grant these creatures the ability of too-advanced thought; they don’t even have any true curse words in their language, unlike in Gipe’s book where Gizmo’s greatest foe, Stripe, hurled the adorable Mogwai swear “chetz-wubba” at him.
The journey from incidental Mogwai to fully grown terrors is a dash in the film, whereas in print, the transformation is not so fast. Before Stripe and the other “majority” Mogwai can enter their pupal stages, they seek out answers about their existence. Gizmo and Billy (Zach Galligan) are wise not to divulge those secrets — no direct light, zero water, and no food after midnight — however, Stripe is unyielding in his inquiry. That pronounced spite of all “minority” Mogwai, those rare good-hearted specimens as opposed to the many corrupted ones, ensures his mission is successful. Yes, the destination takes longer to reach, yet it’s an intriguing journey. Especially when Gizmo plays mind games with Stripe, so as to stop him and the other majority Mogwai from reproducing. A pensive, darker Gizmo emerges in these and other choice moments.
Like most novelizations, the one for Gremlins gives the side characters more playtime. Murray Futterman (played on screen by Dick Miller) is allowed to fly his xenophobia flag even higher as he dispenses a lengthier lesson on Gremlin folklore. Oddly, though, Gipe was in a rush to kill off the Futtermans as well as Kingston Falls’ very own scrooge, Ruby Deagle (Polly Holliday). Instead of describing their demises in detail, the author resorted to a neat plot device; in-story radio coverage, one evoking the hysteria born from 1938’s broadcast of The War of the Worlds, keeps listeners informed about the town’s rising body count plus the military’s response to the invaders. Another minor character to receive a trifle more attention in the book is Billy’s human rival for Kate’s (Phoebe Cates) affection, Gerald (Judge Reinhold); the sycophant loses his mind after he witnesses his boss’ death and, as a way to appease his new overlords, turns the bank into a business just for “little people.”
Pictured: Frances Lee McCain as Lynn in Gremlins.
The heft of Gremlins’ humor is visual, so Gipe went about the comedy element differently. The novelization is more keen on poking fun at the story, which is evident in the police station scene; Billy’s attempt to warn the cops about the Gremlins only results in two snarky officers picking apart the Mogwai rules like so many fans still do. “You mean I can take this little critter to the state line where the time zones change, and if he eats on one side of the line it’s OK, but if he eats on the other side he turns into a monster?” one of the incredulous officers asks Billy. Then, unlike in the film, Billy remembers to tell teacher Roy Hanson (Glynn Turman on screen) not to feed his Mogwai after midnight. Or rather, he entrusts that task with young friend Pete (Corey Feldman). The boy neglecting to do as he was asked provides the novelization’s funniest bit; Chapter Eleven contains only two words: “Pete forgot.”
In addition to the Mogwai’s unearthly background, the book brings up their typically unfortunate run-ins with humans. The most recent encounter was the now-concealed situation aboard the Space Shuttle Columbia in 1983. Gizmo then rattled off other events — “some major and some trivial” — that ranged from mere technology tampering to outright disasters. In hindsight, this longish expo dump, one that supported Mr. Futterman’s mad ravings, offers a real wealth of ideas for future Gremlins outings.
As amusing as this novelization is, not to mention stimulating and well written, it doesn’t take anything from Chris Columbus’ original screenplay — the one that surely would have been slapped with an R-rating had executive producer Steven Spielberg and director Dante not intervene. In that unproduced version, which is generous with both swearing and explicit death, Billy’s Valium-popping mother (later played by Frances Lee McCain), the family dog, and the patrons of a McDonald’s are all brutally murdered by the flesh-eating creatures, and Gizmo’s equivalent turns into the leader of the Gremlins. Needless to say, what Columbus first envisioned is far more grim than what was ultimately made. Gipe was clearly working from the softer and retooled script, but to his credit, he did dial up the psychological intensity in small flashes.
While Joe Dante doesn’t buy the alien angle one bit, and the franchise as a whole prefers a somewhat more grounded mythology, George Gipes’ wild take on Gremlins is the sort of creative madness that makes novelizations so appealing.
Pictured: The cover of the novelization for Gremlins.
