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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fixation

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an independent video outlet and boasting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels a travesty. 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 stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Delights and Societal Nuggets

As I grew, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing 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 happily revealed. This anarchic rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my heightest mourning, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it provided was essential to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.