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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 piece of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Seriously, 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 understands this. In fact, the majority of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Obsession

Understandably, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and featuring snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the praise, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Discoveries and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new understandings enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was needed to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.