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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, the majority of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the theme that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fascination

Of course, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an independent video outlet and boasting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. That said, its sequel rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Delights and Cultural Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enhanced repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash 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 later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each offering a winking bit of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent 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. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the direct intention 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 happily revealed. This anarchic rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death recently, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it provided was necessary to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my feelgood film.