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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

An Early Life Fixation

Of course, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and featuring growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the praise, thanks primarily due to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its sequel rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance 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. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Delights and Cultural References

As I got older, new understandings rewarded repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it offered was essential to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: embrace the chaos, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.