HOT PRESS 6/26/25: Alma and the Wolf, Tramps of the Apocalypse #1, Sleep #1
Plus, some Incredible Hulk cover talk.
Braving the gauntlet of tentpole events, off-the-radar releases, and a non-stop avalanche of movies, TV, comics, and other stuff that's bad for you is DoomRocket's HOT PRESS. This week: A horror movie from Michael Patrick Jann, two comic debuts, and a look at Nic Klein’s recent cover work.
Tucked away in the Pacific Northwest, in one of those small towns where the surrounding trees seem to know your secrets and the neighbors definitely do, lives Deputy Ren Accord (Ethan Embry), a man out of sync with everything: the law, his family, himself. He's soon to be divorced, chronically soused, a half-cop and a half-dad, botching both roles with a slow-motion disintegration that feels almost deliberate. When Alma (Li Jun Li), his high school flame, appears out of the gloom of morning — shuffling down a country road clutching a bloody bundle — Ren fails yet again: not just at protocol, but at empathy. He sits there like a dried-out lump as she tells him about a vicious wolf that just ate her dog. Alma wants it dead. Wolves are a protected species, he reminds her. He'd be committing a felony. Yet, confronting the wolf is exactly what Ren will do, with Alma prodding him along with casseroles, kindness, and an affection he has not felt in eons.
I will now, with some effort, try to express my thoughts on Michael Patrick Jann's Alma and the Wolf without revealing too much — not because the film hinges on twistiness (does it ever), but because catching even a whiff of what this gnarly little horror movie has caked under its claws is to miss the creeping thrill of its unveiling. Put it this way: More than lycanthropic horror, Alma and the Wolf is a brutal glimpse at anger when it roils in full view of everyone who has ever cared about you, the way it rends hope and love from you bit by bit until there's nothing left on the bone. It also has a real sonofabitch monster at its center that you have to see to believe.
If you're still on board, here's a little more. Jann, best known for featuring on The State (for now, at least), boosts Abigail Miller's razorwire screenplay with anarchic flourishes, transforming what could have been a very basic terror tale into something more untamed and exciting. Unlike most of the self-serious A24 clones it will inevitably be grouped with, Jann's film is also weirdly observed and kind of funny. Look at the cast: Kevin Allison (also from The State) plays the local sheriff like a huggy yoga instructor; Jeremie Harris, as Ren's departmental rival, takes time during an investigation to deliver a deadpan (and accurate) disquisition on Loki's moral arc in the Marvel Cinematic Universe; and Alexandra Doke, playing the precinct receptionist, watches wreckage drift in front of her post like it's her favorite soap. Even when hellfire starts to scorch the frame, Jann embraces his comic tics; thankfully, his humor is more idiosyncratic (I'd compare this to the most recent work of Oz Perkins) than bog-standard quirks.
The tone does wobble, but Embry and Li steady the film's emotional sincerity once the fur begins to fly. They're especially good in one scene halfway through: Ren breaks down, not all at once but gradually, at last revealing the regret inside him that one might have thought drink had all but washed away. The ache still lingers when Jann and Miller suddenly rip open a wound that bleeds across a finale that is both hard to watch and may be a deal-breaker — unless, of course, you've tuned into the film's vertiginous, periodically gonzo wavelength. Alma and the Wolf only works if its claws cut willing flesh.
7 / 10
Directed by Michael Patrick Jann.
Written by Abigail Miller.
Starring Ethan Embry, Li Jun Li, Jeremie Harris, Lukas Jann, Kevin Allison, Alexander Doke, Mather Zickel, and Beth Malone.
85 mins. / Rated R. Gore falls in a wet heap. A meatloaf develops fangs.
Tramps of the Apocalypse #1
Dark Horse Comics / $4.99
Written and illustrated by Alice Darrow.
Colors by Hugo Blanc.
Letters by Frank Cvetkovic.
Packing attitude and a candypop zine aesthetic that boosts the irreverence of its post-apoc premise with shortbox throwback zeal, Alice Darrow's Tramps of the Apocalypse is off to a riotous good start. Here's a debut ish with a vicious sense of humor and a keen eye on the thematic prize, that busts past its perverse Gerwig-Barbieish setup — what if Ken’s society of fascist alpha dorks turned the world to shit, and also, what if three bodacious switchblade babes subverted their hard-on horseshit? — by slathering Russ Meyer all over it. Great idea, and a pretty damn good comic, as it happens. I both appreciate and enjoy Darrow's illustrative skills: noodle-lines that assemble into brawny road warriors and bloppy inks that let blood splooge all over the page; the way flaccid libidos, decolletage fetish, leather, boner pills, piss, and whips punctuate the detritus of her dystopia. The three eponymous "tramps" come across a wimpy fella during their latest highway robbery; like him, I'm simping for what comes next. One of the more feisty and interesting things Dark Horse has published in a good, long minute. Get it!
7 / 10
Sleep #1
Image Comics / $4.99
Written and illustrated by Zander Cannon.
I am an unabashed Zander Cannon Appreciator. Kaijumax is forever on my short list of the best comics I’ve read, and that’s why I'm still pumped for Sleep, even if I’m not in love with this first issue. Cannon’s first big break from Kaijumax in terms of scope and genre? Count me in. Sleep could very well end up being a great horror series — Cannon is, beyond being a fantastic cartoonist, a gifted storyteller — but so far, well. What we have is a plotty Chapter One situation in which a guy named Jon wakes up to find an abattoir in his front yard and then proceeds to schmuckily go about his day: girlfriend, church, work, and a reunion with his carefree high school buddy, added for flavor and, thankfully, some personality. Cannon shows King-ian dedication in building his small-town cast and dropping hints of something ominous (his foreboding mood is enhanced by a striking greyscale slashed with crimson motif), but this novelistic approach dulls the hook he should be sinking in with this issue. I take no pleasure in typing this, but if there’s ever a debut that screams “wait for the trade,” Sleep #1 is it.
4.5 / 10
Marvel Comics has produced some of the lousiest covers I’ve seen. Most aren’t necessarily bad, just badly designed, as if the artists were told to draw whatever and that someone further along the line would figure out where to place the trade dress, UPC codes, and company banner. That’s why, to me, most Marvel covers look like a crummy pin-up that someone sneezed cheaply-made graphics over — a far scream away from the House of Ideas’ glory days, when their covers commanded your attention (and your hard-earned cash). Look at this. Want to buy it, right? I sure do. Now look at this. Since taste varies, I have no idea what you may think of a cover like that. Me? I wouldn’t notice it on the rack if it were by itself.
How I think these covers are made is purely speculation; I don’t really know how they’re typically produced in-house at Marvel. I suppose I could ask a couple of friends who might know, but why hassle them over what is very obviously a Me Problem?
This brings me to Nic Klein, an artist I’ve appreciated from a distance for the last couple of years. I'd pick up my girlfriend’s copies of his Thor run (with Donny Cates) and admire his pages. And while I haven’t read any current Marvel in a few years — again, because of those covers, but also sometimes because of the stuff contained inside — I may have to renew my sub for The Incredible Hulk.
First: layout. Marvel’s using a corner box. Hallelujah. It’s not perfect (DC is currently eating their lunch when it comes to corner boxes), but it provides a space for information. The creator roster is just beneath it. Tidy. Gets the clutter of graphics out of the way of the art. The UPC box is right where it needs to be.
Next: composition. I don’t know if Klein is as much of a maniac about cover design as I am, but I appreciate that he makes space for the logo to sit atop the cover where a logo typically belongs. (With Marvel, you don’t take that for granted.) I’d blow up the Hulk logo a bit so that it fills more space and draws more eyes, but that’s a nitpick I can live with. This is a gorgeous cover. It begs to be picked up. Why? Beyond all else, it teases what we may find inside.
What I’m expecting from The Incredible Hulk #26 when I look at this cover: a strange tale of monsters, horror, and discovery. (And, apparently, Bucky Barnes.) A certain level of surreal, phantasmagorical dimension-hopping, like if Richard Corben overdosed on Steve Ditko books and went ballistic on his page. That’s what Klein is selling here: that creepy Marvel horror feeling that the publisher often excels at when conditions are right. I recently discovered that Klein works traditional and paints watercolors over inks for his covers. That only endears him to me further.
One bummer: the cover says Klein isn’t on interiors. But a great cover will grab attention in a deep sea of attention-hogging competition, and generously, his cover gets the job done. Of all the books that came out this week, this is the one I knew I had to have. Isn't that how the comics-buying experience should work?
That's all I got for this week. Read any good comics lately? See any movies? Drop your new favorites, recommendations, and questions (any at all!) in the comments or The Chat. Or, heck, just shoot me a line: jarrod@doomrocket.com.