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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Truly, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fascination

Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. In my youth, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its successor seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Delights and Societal References

As I got older, new revelations rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the express purpose 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 happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a abrupt familial death recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was essential to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.