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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.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Truly, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, most of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fixation

Naturally, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we possessed merely a few well-worn videocassettes 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 grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s original usually receives all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my mindset. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Rewards and Societal Easter Eggs

As I got older, new revelations rewarded frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that caught my eye as a child, this deeper gold held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation 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 happily revealed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and resolve to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: welcome the pandemonium, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my go-to cinematic solace.