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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 nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, a large portion of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve almost certainly acquired from an non-chain rental store and sporting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film usually receives all the praise, thanks largely to its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its successor rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Rewards and Societal Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings enhanced repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters 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 based squarely upon the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his genuine article inspiration.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish defiance and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was needed to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

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