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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fixation

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an independent video outlet and featuring grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its sequel seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Rewards and Societal References

As I matured, new understandings enriched multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul 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 one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking 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 cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my heightest mourning, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was necessary to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.