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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound life guidance. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component 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 Youthful Fixation

Understandably, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an off-brand video shop and featuring grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, thanks largely to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its sequel 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 remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Discoveries and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new revelations rewarded multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and resolve to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it provided was essential to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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