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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, bespectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Truly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. 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 resonates the most.

A Youthful Obsession

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. As a child, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the praise, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its follow-up infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, 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 stick it on. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Discoveries and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I got older, new insights rewarded multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling 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 cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The nostalgic calm it provided was necessary to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles 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 forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.