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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that infests Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Seriously, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is take things too seriously. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Indeed, a large portion of the fang-bearing creatures that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and with the passage of time, it’s the message that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Fixation

Understandably, my attachment to this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. As a child, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a thick former-rental sleeve probably bought from an non-chain rental store and featuring snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was immediately enamoured and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its sequel rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents observed this fixation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Delights and Pop-Culture Easter Eggs

As I grew, new insights enriched repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video produced by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Lasting Legacy

While it was makeup maestro 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 interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms revealing to me he made the movie with the specific aim of poking fun at 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 cheerfully disclosed. This anarchic rebelliousness and resolve to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was needed to dilute my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just cannot manage. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, invest all your resources into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.