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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, most of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the theme that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Fascination

Of course, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. 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 acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Delights and Societal Easter Eggs

As I matured, new revelations rewarded multiple watches, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack 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 effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a abrupt familial death not long ago, I was astonished to realize 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 nostalgic calm it provided was essential to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

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