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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” That bit of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, most of the fang-bearing creatures that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the message that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Fixation

Of course, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and featuring snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the praise, thanks largely to its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Rewards and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I matured, new revelations enriched repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest 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 absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This cartoonish insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my heightest mourning, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

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 emulate them: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.