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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, most of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating daily routine and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the theme that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fixation

Understandably, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an independent video outlet and boasting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original usually receives all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its sequel rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Discoveries and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new revelations enhanced frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused 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) alluding to his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at 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 Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my most profound sorrow, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin agrees completely. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.