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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Seriously, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, the majority of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an non-chain rental store and featuring grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its follow-up 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 sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Discoveries and Cultural Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings rewarded frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Influence

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the specific aim of poking fun at those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This anarchic insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was surprised to find 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 comforting familiarity it provided was necessary to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

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