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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane 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 theme that echoes the loudest.

A Youthful Obsession

Naturally, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. Growing up, 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 thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the praise, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its sequel seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Delights and Societal Nuggets

As I matured, new understandings enriched frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring 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. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was necessary to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the insights 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 understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.