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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fascination

Of course, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. Growing up, 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 thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Delights and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I got older, new understandings enhanced repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of mocking those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a abrupt familial death earlier this year, 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? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it provided was needed to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.