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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Seriously, hear me out.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, most of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that resonates the most.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its successor seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Rewards and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I got older, new understandings enhanced repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a self-aware scene 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 meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold held my interest as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was necessary to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

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 shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources 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 always be my feelgood film.