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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into preserved goods and firearms.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker 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. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Truly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Obsession

Understandably, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we were limited to a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an independent video outlet and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its successor 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 bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Delights and Societal References

As I matured, new revelations rewarded multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Influence

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was essential to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s strong life advice from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.