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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. Our recommendation is 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 lab-engineered, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and as I age, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fixation

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an independent video outlet and featuring grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the accolades, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Deeper Delights and Societal Nuggets

As I matured, new revelations enhanced repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck 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) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video produced 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. 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.

An Enduring Appeal

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention 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 telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing 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 commitment to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had given 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 understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.