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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 piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the theme that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Obsession

Understandably, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we were limited to a few battered VHS 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 featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its sequel rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Discoveries and Cultural Nuggets

As I got older, new understandings enhanced frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate 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) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of ridiculing those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a abrupt familial death 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. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

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.