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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, articulate, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that resonates the most.

A Childhood Obsession

Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an independent video outlet and boasting 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 near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its sequel rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Deeper Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new understandings enhanced multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, 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 absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death not long ago, I was taken aback to discover that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The nostalgic calm it offered was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, 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 always be my comfort movie.