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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, most of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fixation

Naturally, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. In my youth, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an independent video outlet and featuring snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film usually receives 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 on countless occasions. That said, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Rewards and Cultural References

As I got older, new revelations enhanced repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, 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 Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing 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 Looney Tunes-esque defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was needed to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

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