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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into preserved goods and firearms.” That bit of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, the majority of the fang-bearing creatures that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the message that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fascination

Naturally, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. In my youth, we possessed merely 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 probably bought from an off-brand video shop and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Delights and Societal References

As I grew, new insights enriched repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even conversed with 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 absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. 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 powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.