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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Truly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane 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 theme that resonates the most.

An Early Life Fixation

Naturally, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. Growing up, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and sporting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its status as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its sequel seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Deeper Rewards and Societal References

As I grew, new revelations rewarded frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing 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 based on a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. 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, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the specific aim of poking fun at those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This anarchic insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was necessary to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my go-to cinematic solace.