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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, the majority of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fixation

Of course, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. Growing up, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and sporting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new revelations enriched frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching diminutive verdant beasts gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his genuine article inspiration.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The nostalgic calm it offered was necessary to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the insights it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. 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 powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.