Exclusive Interview: Michael Patrick Jann on Blending Horror Subgenres and Emotional Truth in ‘Alma and the Wolf’

There’s horror—and then there’s Alma and the Wolf, a psychological thriller that doesn’t just dip its toes into genre, but fully transforms within it. Set against the hauntingly beautiful backdrop of the Oregon coast, the film follows Deputy Ren Accord (Ethan Embry), whose search for his missing son unearths something far more unsettling than he could ever imagine. Directed by Michael Patrick Jann and written by Abigail Miller, Alma and the Wolf is at once a monster movie, a body horror, a familial drama, and a misty folk mystery. But beneath the eerie aesthetic and genre-blending chaos lies something deeper: a story about identity, grief, and the fragile narratives we construct to make sense of the world.

Michael Patrick Jann is no stranger to storytelling that pushes boundaries. From his cult classic Drop Dead Gorgeous to more recent work like Organ Trail, Jann has consistently brought a sharp eye and distinct voice to every project. With Alma and the Wolf, he draws on those instincts to deliver something that is both emotionally grounded and tonally wild—crafted with collaborators he’s known for decades and others he’s just met. That alchemy, he says, is what makes the process so joyful: building something together, moment by moment, where every contribution shapes the whole.

We sat down with Michael to unpack the psychological spine of the story, how he created space for his cast to explore vulnerability, and what it means to direct a film that can be deeply unnerving, and unexpectedly tender—all in the same breath.

PC: As a filmmaker, you’ve spoken about the importance of staying rooted in your vision. What was the emotional thread in Alma and the Wolf that resonated with you? How did that guide you throughout the process of bringing this story to life?
Michael: There’s a central psychological truth in the movie that drew me to the script. It transcends genre and horror—at its core, it’s about being human. One fundamental aspect of being human is that we create stories about ourselves. We’re constantly building narratives about who we are, what we’re doing, and the roles we play in the world. It’s almost a reflex—it’s part of the user interface of being human.

That’s the psychological foundation of this movie: a person struggling to figure out who they are in their own story, and wrestling with whether they can accept who they might be. That grounding gave me the freedom to explore and take creative risks—because no matter how imaginative the film gets, it’s always anchored in something real.

PC: Absolutely, that use of genre creates this dynamic tonal landscape where those darker themes land in unexpected ways. What does that flexibility allow you to say or explore that maybe a more grounded or linear style wouldn’t have?
Michael: First off, I just really love horror movies. And what excited me about this project is that I didn’t have to make just one kind of horror movie—I got to make several. There’s a monster movie in there. A werewolf movie—sort of. A bit of body horror. Some folk horror. There’s even a misty, eerie thriller in the woods that feels like Silent Hill. And then there’s this intimate, generational family horror—something in the vein of an Ari Aster film. All these subgenres are layered into the story.

The fun of it, for me as a filmmaker, was getting to play in all those different spaces. I wanted the audience to feel that too—to go on this ride that’s thrilling, surprising, and sometimes even disorienting, but always purposeful. Even when it’s disturbing or grotesque, there’s still a sense of enjoyment, because it’s pushing boundaries in a way that’s intentional.

You might’ve felt this while watching the film: one moment you’re laughing, then suddenly it’s weirdly sexy, then it’s gross, then it’s deeply emotional. Being able to shift between all those tones was such an exciting challenge—but what mattered most was having a reason for it all within the story itself. That’s why the final twenty minutes are so important. After taking the audience through all these twists and tonal turns, I wanted to make sure the ending delivers. It’s big, it’s emotional, it ties everything together—and it’s genuinely terrifying.

PC: There are so many nuances in all of these performances. As the director, how do you create that space for your ensemble to play and explore that vulnerability? How different is that process working with someone for the first time versus someone you have an existing relationship with?
Michael: Ethan’s a great actor, and this was a grueling role. There’s a lot of psychological ground to cover, and on top of that, the physical conditions were tough—lots of rain, rugged outdoor terrain. So part of the process with him was always charting where we were in the story: What’s happening in this moment? Where is Ren emotionally right now?

Then you have someone like Kevin Allison, who I’ve known since I was eighteen. When I was at NYU, he acted in my student films. My son is in this one, too. Mather Zickel’s in the film—I’ve known him forever. With people you have history with, there’s already a shorthand. But regardless of whether you’ve just met or have years of collaboration behind you, the most important thing is meeting the actor where they are.

Yes, you have a vision, but vision isn’t some pre-packaged, final thing. It’s not a product—it’s a process. And part of that process is staying open to what each actor brings. You’re there to receive what’s great about what they’re doing and fold it into the fabric of the movie. If you’re clinging to the idea that “this is how I imagined it three months ago,” you’re going to miss out. You have to let go of that immediately.

We’re all in it together—me, the actors, the designers, the director of photography. When you allow everyone to bring their best selves into the work and you’re open to blending those contributions, that’s when the magic happens. That’s when it’s joyful—and, as you said, that’s when you get great performances across the board.

For a movie that’s a pretty hardcore genre film—or genre breaker, as I like to call it—it’s still grounded in really strong performances. Ethan is incredible. Li Jun Li brings such power. Jeremie Harris, who plays Murph, gives a layered and unexpected performance. Lukas, my son, is great. And Kevin—Kevin is hilarious. He can move effortlessly from sincerity to insanity. But I’ve known that about him since I was eighteen. It all comes down to taking what people bring to the table and incorporating it with joy.

To keep up with Michael, follow him on X and Instagram. Alma and the Wolf is out wherever you stream movies.