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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Honestly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, most of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the theme that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fixation

Understandably, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the praise, thanks mostly because of its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Delights and Societal References

As I grew, new insights rewarded frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the specific aim of poking fun at 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 gleefully confessed. This anarchic rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The nostalgic calm it furnished was essential to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, 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 most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.