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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 piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fascination

Naturally, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. Growing up, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Delights and Societal References

As I matured, new revelations enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters joyously wreck 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) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a abrupt familial death not long ago, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – 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 cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.