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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life guidance. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fixation

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an off-brand video shop and sporting grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Delights and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enhanced multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters joyously wreck 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 future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance 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 sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was astonished to realize that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it provided was essential to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.