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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” That bit of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. In fact, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that echoes the loudest.

A Youthful Fixation

Understandably, my connection with this movie wasn’t born 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 chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an non-chain rental store and sporting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to its legacy as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Discoveries and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of poking fun at those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This anarchic rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it offered was needed to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.