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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the theme that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Fascination

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. As a child, we only had 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 instantly captivated and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Delights and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I matured, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it provided was needed to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my go-to cinematic solace.