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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating everyday life 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 resonates the most.

A Youthful Obsession

Of course, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and featuring snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time embedding 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 accolades, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Discoveries and Societal Easter Eggs

As I matured, new understandings enriched repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This anarchic insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

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