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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, most of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta sense of humour regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fixation

Understandably, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we were limited to a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and boasting snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the accolades, thanks mostly because of its status as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins on countless occasions. Nevertheless, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d seclude myself indoors and stick it on. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents observed this fixation, they didn’t seem to mind.

Subtler Delights and Cultural Nuggets

As I grew, new understandings rewarded multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time real estate tycoon and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was based on a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins take over the exact movie you are viewing. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this subsurface richness held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at 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 gleefully confessed. This cartoonish defiance and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I went through a abrupt familial death recently, I was astonished to realize that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was necessary to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: embrace the chaos, 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 most improbable origin – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my comfort movie.