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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Fascination

Of course, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. In my youth, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case almost certainly acquired from an independent video outlet and boasting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original typically gets all the plaudits, thanks largely to its status as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its sequel 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 seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Rewards and Cultural Nuggets

As I got older, new understandings rewarded multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “end of civilisation” 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 should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic rebelliousness and resolve to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family 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 offered was necessary to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the insights it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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