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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into preserved goods and firearms.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life guidance. Truly, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and unadulterated chaos. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the message that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Obsession

Understandably, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its sequel seldom receives the same level of high regard, 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 lock myself inside and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Delights and Societal Nuggets

As I got older, new understandings enriched repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” 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 should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement 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. Odd, no? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was needed to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante knows 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 view the world with undue solemnity.

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