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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Honestly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and as I age, it’s the theme that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. Growing up, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case 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 inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I got my 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 noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Delights and Societal References

As I got older, new understandings enhanced frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Influence

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of poking fun at those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “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 solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a abrupt familial death recently, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it offered was needed to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.