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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer 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, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Truly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Fascination

Understandably, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. Growing up, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its status as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. Nevertheless, its sequel seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new insights enhanced frequent screenings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. 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. An edit for movie houses, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of poking fun at 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 Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.