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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fixation

Understandably, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. Growing up, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and boasting grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. However, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Discoveries and Cultural Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings enriched repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash 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 ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, 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 gleefully confessed. This anarchic defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a abrupt familial death recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it provided was necessary to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects 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, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.