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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Seriously, hear me out.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fixation

Naturally, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an independent video outlet and boasting growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its sequel seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. 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 pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Delights and Societal Nuggets

As I got older, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This cartoonish defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was essential to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had given 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 understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: embrace the chaos, 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 highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.