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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Youthful Fascination

Understandably, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. As a child, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to 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 high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Rewards and Societal Nuggets

As I matured, new revelations enriched repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking 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) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his genuine article inspiration.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy ahead of its time.

A Lasting Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with 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 goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a abrupt familial death recently, I was surprised to find that, during my most profound sorrow, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was necessary to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms 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 eternally stand as my feelgood film.