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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 nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Obsession

Naturally, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an independent video outlet and featuring growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original typically gets all the plaudits, thanks largely to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Rewards and Societal References

As I grew, new revelations enriched multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his genuine article inspiration.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of mocking 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 gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was necessary to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.