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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, the majority of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the theme that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the accolades, thanks largely to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its successor seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Discoveries and Pop-Culture Easter Eggs

As I grew, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned 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 exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the direct intention 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 cartoonish insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a abrupt familial death not long ago, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it provided was essential to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.