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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component 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.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an non-chain rental store and featuring snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its successor seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Discoveries and Societal Nuggets

As I grew, new insights enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, 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 inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Influence

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The nostalgic calm it offered was needed to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.