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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, speaking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that infests Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect 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 Obsession

Naturally, my connection with this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. As a child, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an off-brand video shop and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s first film commonly garners all the praise, thanks primarily due to its status as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Delights and Societal References

As I grew, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “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 different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each offering a winking bit of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This anarchic insubordination and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a abrupt familial death recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it provided was essential to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.