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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” That bit of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fascination

Of course, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. As a child, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an independent video outlet and boasting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. 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 early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, 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 noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Rewards and Pop-Culture Easter Eggs

As I got older, new insights enhanced multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize 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 later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking 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 Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and resolve 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 recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff 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 are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.