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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Truly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, most of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Obsession

Naturally, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and boasting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the accolades, thanks mostly because of its status as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped 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 Cultural Easter Eggs

As I grew, new insights rewarded frequent screenings, 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 future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his genuine article inspiration.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The nostalgic calm it provided was necessary to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.