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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. The guidance we offer all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into preserved goods and firearms.” This piece of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, articulate, bespectacled member of the slick creature crowd that swarms Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. 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 grasps this. In fact, a large portion of the toothy monsters that inhabit Dante’s chaotic 1990 feature (debateably his greatest) possess the same knowing, self-referential funny bone regarding the blurry line separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. 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 strikes the deepest chord.

An Early Life Fixation

Understandably, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an philosophical plane. In my youth, we possessed merely a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box almost certainly acquired from an off-brand video shop and sporting snarling creatures on its knackered cover. I was instantly captivated and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an near-everyday part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment usually receives all the accolades, thanks largely to its reputation as a moderately spooky festive favorite – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its successor infrequently obtains the same level of elevated esteem, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d always seize the chance to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. With repetition, it became deeply rooted in my mindset. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Rewards and Cultural References

As I grew, new understandings enriched repeat viewings, elevating the fun of watching little green monsters joyously wreck a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during the height of creature carnage? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world really ended. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations 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 providing a grinning portion of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy before the term was even a thing.

An Enduring Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this hidden treasure maintained my fascination as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no reservations telling me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking 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 gleefully confessed. This cartoonish insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only made me love it even more.

When I experienced a abrupt familial death earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my most profound sorrow, all I felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Odd, no? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it provided was essential to weaken my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins running amok in a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s robust worldly wisdom from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will always be my comfort movie.