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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a lab-engineered, articulate, glasses-wearing member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Truly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that populate Dante’s wild 1990 film (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s a particular aspect of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and the older I get, it’s the theme that strikes the deepest chord.

A Youthful Fascination

Understandably, my fondness for this movie wasn’t born on such an introspective level. Growing up, we only had a few well-worn videocassettes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case likely purchased from an independent video outlet and featuring snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films wasted no time inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. From then on, they became an near-everyday part of my youthful watching schedule.

Dante’s first film typically gets all the plaudits, thanks mostly because of its legacy as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. Nevertheless, its sequel rarely gets the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it etched itself permanently in my psyche. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new revelations enhanced multiple watches, amplifying the pleasure of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp possesses greater compassion than his genuine article inspiration.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film alternate cuts of a meta sequence where Gremlins seize control of the actual feature in progress. An edit for movie houses, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each delivering a smirking slice of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that drew my gaze as a child, this deeper gold maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation telling me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This cartoonish rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as seriously as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only made me love it even more.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Maybe not. The comforting familiarity it offered was essential to thin out my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just cannot manage. Dante is aware of it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to follow their example: embrace the chaos, commit your entire being into canned food and shotguns and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

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