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“Well, conditions are quite harsh 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 scientifically altered, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Youthful Fascination

Understandably, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. In my youth, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time inserting 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 plaudits, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its sequel seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Discoveries and Societal References

As I grew, new revelations enriched frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination 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 direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This cartoonish insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement 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 nostalgic calm it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.