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“Well, the situation is pretty dire here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a scientifically altered, speaking, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. Yet, in a strange manner, it’s also remarkably sound life advice. Honestly, listen to my reasoning.

When life takes a turn for the worse, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Actually, the majority of the toothy monsters that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware sense of humour regarding the indistinct border separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that keeps me coming back – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that resonates the most.

A Childhood Fixation

Of course, my attachment to this movie wasn’t born on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we were limited to a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a bulky previously-rented case probably bought from an off-brand video shop and sporting growling monsters on its tattered front. I was right away smitten and these films quickly proceeded inserting themselves inside my small, malleable brain. After that point, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the plaudits, thanks largely to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its successor seldom receives the same level of high regard, which feels unjust. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d retreat into the house and pop it in. When I obtained my very own TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents detected this preoccupation, they gave no indication of concern.

Subtler Rewards and Cultural Easter Eggs

As I matured, new revelations enriched repeat viewings, amplifying the pleasure of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time property magnate and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by future president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his one-time partner Marla Maples. Luckily, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was based on a genuine “Doomsday” video commissioned 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 different iterations of a self-aware scene where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. One for cinemas, one for VHS and TV, each offering a winking bit of fourth-wall-breaking cultural alchemy ahead of its time.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s wonderfully grotesque creatures that captured my attention as a child, this deeper gold held my interest as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the express purpose 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 insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as gravely 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 felt compelled to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The nostalgic calm it furnished was needed to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the insights it had imparted to me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s certain elements in life you just are powerless over. Dante knows it. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: accept the turmoil, 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 very unlikely source – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my go-to cinematic solace.