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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, the majority of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s one element 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.

A Childhood Obsession

Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an non-chain rental store and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original usually receives all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its successor seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Deeper Delights and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new insights enriched frequent screenings, 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 based squarely upon the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife 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 based on a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic defiance and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was necessary to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.