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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 piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life advice. 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. In fact, most of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Obsession

Understandably, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. As a child, we possessed merely a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and boasting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original usually receives all the praise, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings rewarded repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” 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 really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

An Enduring Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of mocking those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness 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 went through a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was essential to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.