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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 piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, glasses-wearing member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s ultra-modern Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also pretty solid existential counsel. Truly, listen to my reasoning.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating everyday life and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the theme that echoes the loudest.

An Early Life Fixation

Understandably, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an non-chain rental store and featuring growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an near-everyday part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the plaudits, 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. However, its follow-up rarely gets the same level of high regard, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Hidden Discoveries and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new revelations enhanced frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film different iterations of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the exact movie you are viewing. A version for theaters, one for VHS and TV, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic ahead of its time.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was effects expert Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. Eventually, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he gleefully confessed. This anarchic insubordination 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 experienced a abrupt familial death not long ago, I was astonished to realize that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Possibly not. The nostalgic calm it furnished was necessary to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the stuff it had imparted to me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins tearing apart 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: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.