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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Seriously, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, the majority of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. 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 strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Obsession

Understandably, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and boasting grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original typically gets all the accolades, thanks largely to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. Nevertheless, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Delights and Cultural Nuggets

As I got older, new insights enhanced repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching little green monsters gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, 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 Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family 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. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.