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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Truly, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. Indeed, most of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (debateably his greatest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the theme that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Fascination

Understandably, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and boasting grimacing beasts on its tattered front. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time embedding themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the plaudits, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. Nevertheless, its successor seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture Nuggets

As I matured, new revelations enhanced repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins take over the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Maybe not. The nostalgic calm it furnished was needed to dilute my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

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