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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.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the blurry line separating everyday life 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.

An Early Life Fascination

Naturally, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its successor seldom receives 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 seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Rewards and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings rewarded multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing 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 cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic defiance and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, 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 very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.