I owe my very being to USA Up All Night.
Now, I’ve recounted this story elsewhere, but here’s the short version: My first real memory isn’t running in some idyllic forest, or traipsing through yuletide snow — it was watching The Toxic Avenger on the floor of my father’s apartment. (I can still feel those cheap fibers as I gripped the carpet floor in terror and/or delight.) And so when I say I know and love exploitation movies, maybe that carries a bit of extra weight.
Same goes when I tell ya that Tigress Island hits the sweet spot for an “old pro” like yours truly.
Main cover by EPHK. Courtesy of Image Comics.
Every part of this series feels like it was made by two dudes who adore and respect this overarching “genre” (that’d be writer Patrick Kindlon and artist EPHK). And in our deep dive conversation (which you can also read as of this morning), the pair make a case for the intellectual and creative feats they’re trying to accomplish across this book. And Tigress Island #1 meets those very parameters and then some with a huge heart and overt coolness.
For one, the plot is quintessential exploitation, as we follow a group of girls (Bridget, Lonni, Yulia, Hema, Delight, and Vanessa) as they’re captured and sent to a mysterious island where, with fates clear enough, they’re forced to work together toward their escape. On the one hand, Kindlon nails the “exploitation tone” brilliantly, balancing violence, sexuality, and aggression in a way that is the right kind of controversial but never enough for us to ignore the deeply human core of this familiar enough narrative.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
And that’s perfectly reflected in EPHK’s art. He knows just how much to exaggerate or over-extend humanity anatomy and these acts of violence (like a neat scene involving a chair and a whip) to foster the same effect. If anything, it’s the art where so much of this effect resides in earnest — thanks to in-scene flashbacks (as just one example), we get moments both silly and unsettling regarding the girls’ backgrounds, and through these we understand the unique shape of this world. (That, and just what kind of dynamics are at play here — the intricate and compelling kind as each lead feels the right level of deep but disposable.)
And in that relatively “easy” immersion, our minds are primed for that unique function of exploitation films: A hyperbolic “increase” in certain emotions and sentiments that are meant to strip away the context and get to the heart of this story and its interest in power dynamics and how the elites of the world actually operate. An easy way in, as it were, doesn’t mean the subject matter is any less challenging; rather, it just means all of it resonates deeper and more readily.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Said “efficiency” is furthered a couple extra notches when you consider what else has been done to “quicken” the overall story and its pace. Kindlon wastes little time with needless narration, and he drops us squarely in this world in just such a way that we’re never lost. Rather, we’re meant to work to keep up with a rather rapid-fire debut that takes the girls from their old lives to the island in record speed. Similarly, Kindlon’s ear for dialogue means that we more effectively achieve and maintain engagement. Not only is this a more entertaining approach to storytelling overall, but dialogue as the “driving force” feels like the best way to know these characters and their specific roles, wishes, narrative paths, etc.
By being such a deeply effective, downright efficient story, it feels like we’re moved (without actually feeling that way) right into the moral and emotional back-and-forth at the core of Tigress Island and other exploitation properties.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
I also think that EPHK’s art also does something else that properly “augments” that humanity (and not, like, outright dampening those sentiments). It’s more than having teeny, tiny waists and over-inflated busts (although those do help) — the use of white eyes (as yet another instance) is a gentle but sturdy poke that this ain’t the real world. Or, that there’s something more cartoonish about these people, and that fact is both another vital irritant for our thinking process and a theme in and of itself. Either way, it’s a small but mighty style choice that wonderfully complicates our consumption, and makes us pause/stop to consider the true scope of this world.
You could say the same for some character designs of background players, or even certain clothing and hair choices — it’s all about playing with time, perception, context, etc. in a way that takes you out of this story in just the right way (and counters their efforts to keep us locked in tight). It’s about moving in and out in terms of trying to truly feel it all, but also knowing that there’s someone else on the “other side” of this thing that’s engaging you right back.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Ultimately, that approach and technique typifies what I most took away from my conversation with Kindlon and EPHK — that Tigress Island works because of the deeply human respect and admiration they bring. You can perhaps best see that in the uncomfortably relevant subject matter: It’s near impossible to read this debut and not think of the news cyclone around Epstein Island. And rather than that connection feeling downright uncouth and disrespectful (or awkward for the reader), the creators handle it with the utmost care and humanity.
It’s not that they could have planned something like this (no one could). And even if they somehow did, they frame and contextualize this story in such a way (it’s Hong Kong circa 1987, it’s all adult women, it’s part of a larger “theme” in exploitation flicks, etc.) that any association never feels cheap. Instead, Tigress Island handles that complicated connotation to a genuine tragedy with class, making us consider that story in such a way that the work is up to us to really connect the dots. And by not being obvious (when so many books might have), Tigress Island shows itself to be interested in using that connection as just one tool in its larger storytelling endeavors.
Variant cover by Kaladen. Courtesy of Image Comics.
The end result is a mighty bag of tricks, indeed, with humor, depravity, morality, social relevance, etc. all coalescing into one perfectly-tempered bowl of porridge. It’s just stupid enough to be funny but never in a way that’s over-done; just smart enough to be moving without being hyper-indulgent; just sexy enough to feel thrilling without taking advantage of anyone; and just violent enough to grab our eyes without dismissing the larger themes of community, equality, and social justice at the book’s center.
If it weren’t for its specific creators, Tigress Island might have looked very different, and the razor-thin margins could have dissolved entirely and left us with a bad book that embarrasses victims, empowers the bullies, and leaves the rest of us feeling bored and/or irritated. But much like my beloved Up All Night, it hits everything with the right depth and intensity to leave us with a big action story with teeth and heart to spare.
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