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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.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, 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. Indeed, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fascination

Naturally, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. Growing up, we possessed merely a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an independent video outlet and boasting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. However, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. 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 play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Discoveries and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new insights enriched repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the express purpose 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 cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement recently, I was taken aback to discover 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 soothing reminiscence it offered was necessary to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.