Ah, the show about a quirky small town, one that may harbor something potentially sinister behind its pleasant veneer. Maybe you’re a fan of such notable contemporaries as “Eerie, Indiana“, “Stranger Things,” or even “Twin Peaks“. Maybe you want that mix of offbeat comedy, a smattering of characters, and that signature supernatural turn of events stemming from the depths of folk legend. And maybe you’re simply a fan of Matthew Rhys. Lo and behold, a show checking all of these boxes has arrived, for those exhausted with their “Northern Exposure” rewatch or, perhaps, wishing for something else with something more lurking within. It’s called “Widow’s Bay“, Apple TV‘s latest jaunt into the genre of comedy horror, yet there’s plenty to unveil from behind what the genre might merely suggest.
Located somewhere off the coast of Massachusetts, the island of Widow’s Bay shares much in common with any number of summer tourist destinations spread throughout the Lower 48, with its oceanside charm, quaint main street equipped with your usual shops alongside a cozy watering hole or three, and even a rustic inn wherein to rest one’s weary head called, simply, The Inn. It’s here that Tom (Matthew Rhys) ran unopposed for mayor, here he calls home with his son Evan (Kingston Rumi Southwick), here where he raised Evan as a single father after his wife died in childbirth, and here he must contend with a series of unusual happenings seen shortly into Episode One, “Welcome to Widow’s Bay!”, when a local resident goes missing and the paranoid Wyck (Stephen Root) immediately knows something foul is afoot. Wyck, it would seem, has been something of a thorn in Tom’s side for some time, what with his claims of a danger lurking in the surrounding, ever-present fog. Tom has no time for this; it’s nearly tourist season, but as he does his best to tend to his duties as mayor and de facto face of Widow’s Bay, that fog simply will not leave his mind. It’s enough to make him shout out in desperation as someone attempts to leave the bar Tom’s also inhabiting at the end of Episode One; there’s something in the fog, he says. But what? What does he know?
Well, for starters, anyone born on the island has a history of never having left. Tom, a mainlander by birth, can’t claim this, but his stabs at skepticism continue to meet with the reality that something is indeed wrong with Widow’s Bay, bolstered by an overnight stay at the allegedly haunted Inn he’s cajoled into by a group of barflies and which serves to kick off a moment straight out of “It” within the confines of The Inn’s basement crawlspace; could the fact that he’s staying in the infamous Captain’s Suite have anything to do with such an event? Why won’t the innkeeper set foot inside the room? Oh, and there’s the matter of that bizarre video Tom watches in his room, a sort of analog horror piece in which an unnamed man welcomes the audience to Widow’s Bay, before walking off into the distance, only to later be replaced during a second viewing by a Slenderman-esque apparition…again, all happening seemingly in the mind of a sleeping Tom, shaken upon awakening. Who wouldn’t be?
There’s more. Later episodes would see the wheels continue to come loose, with an annual swimming event simply called “The Inaugural Swim” seeing the mayor take to the water for a brief jaunt so as to show the gathered crowd there’s nothing to fear…until there is, with the beleaguered Tom seeing a nearby buoy submerge before an unseen presence begins to pull him under. To the onlookers, Tom appears to be wrestling with the air; why is he the only one able to see these events? What about the woman he meets as tourist season begins, walking around as if in a daze, seemingly searching for Wi-Fi on an island that has none? In town for a bachelorette party, Tom’s more than happy to give her a helpful ride, where the two soon spend time at a diner, waited on by the curmudgeonly Kathy as he opens up about his past, and laughs are shared over Kathy’s apparently purposeful mix-up of their orders. With plans made to meet again, the overarching question soon resurfaces: Is this particular woman also a figment of whatever’s affecting Tom?
Meanwhile, it’s time to turn the focus towards Patti (Kate O’Flynn), Tom’s assistant and a near-victim of a serial killer nicknamed The Boogeyman years prior, a ghastly event which saw a number of Patti’s classmates lose their lives and something that’s weighed heavily upon Patti ever since. Her attempts to mesh with those same classmates as adults immediately showcase her outsider status, with thinly-veiled hostility present within every interaction, but with a cocktail event spearheaded by Patti quickly approaching, this could be her moment to seize the spotlight with an event for the books. What could go wrong? If you’ve come this far, you know plenty could, and does. Patti’s episode, a nice step aside from the main plot, does find its way back at the end, in a manner that, to the surprise of no one, couldn’t be more unsettling if it tried.
It never feels like too much, nor does the unfolding of layers ever feel frustratingly slow. This remains the issue with densely-packed narratives present within shows like “Lost“, coincidentally also largely set on an island, and by employing a tried-and-true method of sticking to the core story while sprinkling tantalizing pieces of whatever may be happening makes for an experience you won’t realize has begun to reel you in, akin to the duties of your trusty New England fisherman. Matthew Rhys balances anxiety with doubt, all while simply trying to bolster his town’s image; he’s endearing without trying to be, an everyman easily the audience surrogate in the grand tradition of so many before.
Yet, it’s those around him who comprise the show’s final pieces, those who handle that completion effortlessly. Put Stephen Root in anything, and he’ll deliver, here fully committed to the bit as the town weirdo who may be more on everyone’s side than anyone, even Tom, may realize. As if a shepherd, herding Tom towards the answers he can’t deny he needs, he’s both the loud voice of reason and even Tom’s eventual savior; O’Flynn’s Patti, however, plays her role straight, simultaneously clinging to the edge of wide-eyed semi-mania as she chases approval and sadly sits within her bookmobile named “The Pattiwagon”. As Tom’s right-hand, she’s perfectly cast, and it’s in these interactions, both between the two and in town council meetings, that the show’s comedy truly shines.
Atmosphere, you ask? When a New England body of land is pictured, one might imagine a dreary, chilly environment, but on “Widow’s Bay,” it somehow manages to straddle the line between light and dark. For a show where unusual, possibly deadly fog is mentioned early on, much of the show feels easy on the eyes, yet still manages to emphasize that discomfort when needed. You know it wants to go farther, and it’s in that restraint that better scares await down the line.
Kudos to showrunner Katie Dippold (“Parks and Recreation”); there’s something special here. It’s more than enough to warrant another trip. [A+]
