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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Truly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. 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 fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. As a child, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an off-brand video shop and featuring snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Delights and Societal References

As I grew, new revelations rewarded repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts gleefully trash 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 eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent 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 qualms telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking 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 rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a unexpected loss in the family not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was necessary to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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