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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer 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, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life guidance. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, most of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Obsession

Understandably, my connection with this movie did not begin 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 thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an independent video outlet and sporting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. Nevertheless, its successor rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Discoveries and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new revelations enhanced frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a self-aware scene where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish insubordination 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 abrupt familial death earlier this year, 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. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.