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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fixation

Of course, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an non-chain rental store and sporting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the praise, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside 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 psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Rewards and Societal References

As I grew, new insights enhanced frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through 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. Odd, no? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the insights 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 are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like 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 most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my feelgood film.