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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, bespectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker 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. Yet, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, a large portion of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane 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 echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. As a child, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and boasting growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the accolades, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Rewards and Cultural References

As I grew, new revelations rewarded multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine 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 clearly wanted him to, 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 heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it offered was essential to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my feelgood film.