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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 preserved goods and firearms.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s simply an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also pretty solid life guidance. Truly, consider my perspective.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, most of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the message that resonates the most.

An Early Life Fascination

Understandably, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and sporting snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. 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 stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Rewards and Cultural References

As I got older, new understandings enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused 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) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was inspired by a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms telling me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This anarchic insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a unexpected loss in the family earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, invest all your resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my feelgood film.