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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, the majority of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the blurry line separating daily routine and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an independent video outlet and boasting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the praise, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. However, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Deeper Delights and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new understandings rewarded frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.

An Enduring Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this hidden treasure 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 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 rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it offered was necessary to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things 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: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.