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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fascination

Understandably, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and featuring snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original typically gets all the plaudits, thanks largely to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Rewards and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I got older, new insights enriched multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking 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. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his genuine article inspiration.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing 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 gleefully confessed. This anarchic defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement not long ago, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was essential to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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