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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.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, talking, bespectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that infests Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s unhinged continuation Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s merely an financial suggestion from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also surprisingly sturdy life advice. Seriously, listen to my reasoning.

When situations deteriorate, the most counterproductive action you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. Indeed, a large portion of the toothy monsters that populate Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (possibly his finest) possess the same sly, self-aware funny bone regarding the indistinct border separating the mundane and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that ensures my return – and the older I get, it’s the theme that resonates the most.

An Early Life Fascination

Understandably, my fondness for this movie didn’t start on such an philosophical plane. As a child, we were limited to a few battered VHS tapes 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 sporting snarling creatures on its tattered front. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my young, susceptible psyche. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my early years entertainment regimen.

Dante’s original usually receives all the praise, thanks largely to its status as a partly frightening holiday classic – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. That said, its successor rarely gets the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels a travesty. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I got my own TV-VHS combo unit, it stayed in constant rotation in my bedroom. Gradually, it became deeply rooted in my psyche. If my parents noticed this obsession, they gave no indication of concern.

Hidden Rewards and Cultural Nuggets

As I got older, new understandings enhanced frequent screenings, amplifying the pleasure of watching diminutive verdant beasts happily vandalize a New York high-rise. I learned the forward-thinking development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on the eventual commander-in-chief Donald Trump, with his ginger staff member Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his genuine article inspiration.

The “doomsday” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was modeled after a real-life “Doomsday” video created by the CNN boss Ted Turner should the world actually met its demise. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film varying versions of a self-referential segment where Gremlins hijack the very film you’re watching. A version for theaters, a separate one for tape and broadcast, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

An Enduring Influence

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure held my interest as an adult. In time, I even interviewed Dante about it myself and he had no qualms informing 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 cheerfully disclosed. This Looney Tunes-esque insubordination and commitment to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only increased my affection for it.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was astonished to realize that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Possibly not. The comforting familiarity it offered was needed to dilute my mind’s sadness sludge – but the stuff it had given me as an adult were just as useful.

Like Gremlins rampaging through a genetics laboratory, there’s particular aspects 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, invest all your resources into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s why Gremlins 2: The New Batch will eternally stand as my feelgood film.