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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into canned food and shotguns.” This piece of shrewd guidance comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. Yet, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Honestly, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the worst thing you can do is approach matters with excessive gravity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, a large portion of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a single component of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the underlying idea that strikes the deepest chord.

A Childhood Obsession

Of course, my connection with this movie didn’t start on such an introspective level. Growing up, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Part of that group were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an independent video outlet and boasting snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the praise, thanks largely to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and don’t get me wrong, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. 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 remained on repeat in my bedroom. With repetition, it ingrained itself in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Discoveries and Cultural Nuggets

As I matured, new insights enriched frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts 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 the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his second wife Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “end of civilisation” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy ahead of its time.

An Enduring Appeal

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold kept me hooked as an adult. In time, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of ridiculing those who loved its absurd-yet-genuine predecessor and desired a sequel. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This cartoonish insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I went through a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my heightest mourning, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was needed to weaken my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into tinned provisions and hunting rifles and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my go-to cinematic solace.