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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, bespectacled member of the oozy monster mob that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Honestly, hear me out.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the message that resonates the most.

An Early Life Fixation

Of course, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we possessed merely 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 likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and boasting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the accolades, thanks primarily due to its legacy as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its successor rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Rewards and Societal References

As I grew, new understandings rewarded repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash 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 later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy ahead of its time.

A Lasting Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention 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 solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only increased my affection for it.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death recently, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was needed to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had bestowed upon me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles 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 always be my comfort movie.