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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s super-smart 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. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Honestly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Youthful Obsession

Understandably, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and boasting snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Rewards and Cultural Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings rewarded frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” 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 truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt 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 obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was surprised to find 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 soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like 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 very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my go-to cinematic solace.