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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, the majority of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fascination

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Delights and Cultural References

As I grew, new insights enhanced multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Appeal

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. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it furnished was essential to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my feelgood film.