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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 canned food and shotguns.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Obsession

Naturally, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we were limited to a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an independent video outlet and boasting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance 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 continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mindset. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Discoveries and Cultural References

As I got older, new revelations enhanced multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate 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) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness 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 ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family not long ago, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was essential to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. 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 very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.