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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

A Youthful Obsession

Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. Growing up, we were limited to a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and sporting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the accolades, thanks largely to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its successor 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 long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside 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 noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Delights and Cultural Nuggets

As I got older, new understandings rewarded multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer 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 spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the direct intention 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 cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my go-to cinematic solace.