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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Truly, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the message that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Fixation

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an independent video outlet and boasting growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new insights enhanced repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking 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) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart 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 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 self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it offered was essential to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s strong life advice from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.