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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life guidance. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fixation

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film usually receives all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its successor rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Delights and Pop-Culture Easter Eggs

As I got older, new revelations rewarded frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart 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 actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

An Enduring Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of poking fun at 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 defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was necessary to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being 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 the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.