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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 nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, talking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s simply an investment tip from one monster to another. However, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the biggest mistake you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. In my youth, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its follow-up, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and featuring grimacing beasts on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. That said, its successor seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it ingrained itself in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Deeper Rewards and Societal Easter Eggs

As I got older, new revelations enhanced multiple watches, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash 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 future 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 “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-aware scene where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of mocking 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 Looney Tunes-esque defiance and resolve to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family recently, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it provided was needed to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a very unlikely source – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.