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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. Our recommendation is all of our clients to commit their entire holdings into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” That bit of wise counsel comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, spectacled member of the oozy monster mob that swarms Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in helmer Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Superficially, it’s merely an investment tip from one monster to another. Yet, curiously, it’s also pretty solid life advice. Seriously, consider my perspective.

When things go bad, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin understands this. Actually, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that inhabit Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same sly, self-aware comic sensibility regarding the blurry line separating everyday life and pure pandemonium. It’s a particular aspect 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

Naturally, my fondness for this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. In my youth, we only had a few scratched-up video tapes at home. Among them were Gremlins and its second chapter, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box probably bought from an off-brand video shop and boasting snarling creatures on its worn-out artwork. I was right away smitten and these films did not delay inserting themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. After that point, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment typically gets all the praise, thanks primarily due to its reputation as a partly frightening holiday classic – and to be fair, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. However, its sequel infrequently obtains the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During long summer holidays, I’d lock myself inside and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Over time, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Subtler Delights and Pop-Culture References

As I got older, new revelations enriched frequent screenings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was based squarely upon future president Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) echoing his second wife Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp demonstrates more humanity than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was based on a real-life “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante made a special effort to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins take over the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery ahead of its time.

A Lasting Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that caught my eye as a child, this subsurface richness maintained my fascination as an adult. Ultimately, I even spoke to Dante about it myself and he had no reservations informing me he made the movie with the direct intention of poking fun at 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 anarchic rebelliousness and commitment to not take his sequel as solemnly as his Warner Bros bosses clearly wanted him to, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a unexpected loss in the family 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. Strange, isn’t it? Perhaps not. The comforting familiarity it furnished was essential to thin out my mind’s mourning mire – but the stuff it had bestowed upon me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to be like them: welcome the pandemonium, commit your entire being into preserved goods and firearms and try not to view the world with undue solemnity.

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