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“Well, conditions are quite harsh here. We’re advising all of our clients to put everything they’ve got into canned food and shotguns.” This nugget of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, speaking, spectacled member of the slick creature crowd that overruns Manhattan’s super-smart Clamp Tower skyscraper in filmmaker Joe Dante’s zany follow-up Gremlins 2: The New Batch. At first glance, it’s nothing more than an financial suggestion from one monster to another. However, curiously, it’s also surprisingly sturdy existential counsel. Honestly, hear me out.

When things go bad, the worst thing you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin grasps this. In fact, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s unrestrained 1990 movie (arguably his best) possess the same wry, meta comic sensibility regarding the hazy boundary separating the mundane and unadulterated chaos. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and as I age, it’s the underlying idea that echoes the loudest.

A Childhood Fixation

Naturally, my connection with this movie did not begin on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we only had 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 likely purchased 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 embedding themselves inside my small, malleable brain. Henceforth, they became an almost-daily part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s initial installment commonly garners all the praise, thanks largely to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins an incalculable number of times. Nevertheless, its follow-up seldom receives the same level of lofty appreciation, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d invariably jump at the prospect to watch Gremlins 2. During sunny school summer breaks, I’d retreat into the house and play it. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it remained on repeat in my bedroom. Gradually, it etched itself permanently in my mental framework. If my parents noticed this obsession, they appeared unbothered.

Hidden Rewards and Pop-Culture References

As I matured, new insights enriched repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the ahead-of-its-time development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was modeled closely on future president Donald Trump, with his red-headed employee Marla (Haviland Morris) alluding to his one-time partner Marla Maples. Thankfully, Clamp has more heart than his real-life counterpart.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during peak-Gremlin chaos? I discovered it was modeled after a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner as a contingency for the world really ended. I noticed how Dante took extra pains to film alternate cuts of a self-aware scene where Gremlins hijack the actual feature in progress. One for cinemas, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of self-referential entertainment sorcery before the term was even a thing.

A Persistent Appeal

While it was creature designer Rick Baker’s fantastically vile creatures that drew my gaze 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 revealing to me he made the movie with the direct intention of ridiculing those who loved its silly-yet-sincere predecessor and craved further installments. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This Looney Tunes-esque defiance and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses obviously desired, only made me love it even more.

When I endured a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was surprised to find that, during my deepest grief, all I wanted to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Weird, right? Perhaps not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was essential to thin out my mind’s sadness sludge – but the perspectives it had bestowed upon me as an adult were equally valuable.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just are powerless over. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin shares this wisdom. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: accept the turmoil, put everything you’ve got into canned food and shotguns and try not to take things too seriously.

It’s powerful existential guidance from a most improbable origin – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my go-to cinematic solace.