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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Obsession

Understandably, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. As a child, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Delights and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new revelations enriched frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate 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 one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a actual “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 self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the specific aim 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 cartoonish insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.