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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. However, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Actually, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and as I age, it’s the theme that resonates the most.

A Youthful Fixation

Understandably, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an off-brand video shop and featuring grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its successor infrequently obtains 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 long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I grew, new insights enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? 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 went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold held my interest as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking 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 rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The nostalgic calm it provided was necessary to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the insights it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.