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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 preserved goods and firearms.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fixation

Understandably, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. As a child, we were limited to a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Discoveries and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I got older, new revelations enhanced multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of poking fun at 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 happily revealed. This anarchic insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it provided was necessary to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.