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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 preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

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, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Youthful Obsession

Naturally, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. In my youth, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time lodging themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the praise, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. However, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Discoveries and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new revelations enhanced frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his genuine article inspiration.

The “doomsday” 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 in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the specific aim of mocking those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family not long ago, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was needed to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: accept the turmoil, 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 very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.