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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into preserved goods and firearms.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Truly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fascination

Of course, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an introspective level. Growing up, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an non-chain rental store and sporting snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside and stick it on. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Rewards and Societal References

As I got older, new revelations enriched repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This cartoonish insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was essential to dilute 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 are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

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