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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, 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 simply an investment tip from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

A Youthful Fascination

Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. In my youth, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes 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 off-brand video shop and sporting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original typically gets all the praise, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its successor seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, 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 Influence

While it was makeup maestro 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 spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of poking fun at those who loved its silly-yet-sincere 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 resolve to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it provided was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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