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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, bespectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fixation

Of course, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we possessed merely a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original usually receives all the praise, thanks largely to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Deeper Rewards and Cultural References

As I grew, new understandings enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking 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 gleefully confessed. This anarchic rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a abrupt familial death 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? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

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