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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 preserved goods and firearms.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Truly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the message that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Fascination

Of course, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we were limited to a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an non-chain rental store and boasting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film 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 on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect 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 continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Rewards and Societal Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enriched multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. 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. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the express purpose 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 happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The nostalgic calm it furnished was necessary to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.