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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Honestly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, the majority of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Obsession

Understandably, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. Growing up, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an non-chain rental store and boasting grimacing beasts on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the praise, thanks primarily due to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. However, its sequel seldom receives 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 seclude myself indoors and play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Delights and Pop-Culture References

As I grew, new revelations enriched repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was inspired by a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Eventually, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking 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 cheerfully disclosed. This cartoonish insubordination and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death not long ago, 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. Weird, right? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was essential to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects 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: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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