There’s a not insignificant chance that if you’ve been on social media at all the last month or so you’ve heard the good news about our Lord and saviour Widow’s Bay. It is currently about 40% of my personality (another 40% is still being occupied by Heated Rivalry). If you haven’t yet tried this show, here is my pitch for why you should.
It’s [insert quirky comedy] meets [insert weird horror]
Parks & Rec meets Twin Peaks. Schitt’s Creek meets The X-Files. Northern Exposure meets Gravity Falls. Ted Lasso meets Courage the Cowardly Dog. The Good Place meets Eerie, Indiana. To do horror comedy right, you have to expertly balance scares with laughs. Sometimes what you end up with is a story that leans too heavily on one or the other so it becomes a horror story that is occasionally funny or a comedy with some scary bits. Widow’s Bay deftly walks the horror comedy tightrope. Even the scariest moments have humor weaving through them. Often, the humor is the horror—consider the Sea Hag or the Boogeyman.
Katie Dippold, the creator of Widow’s Bay, came up with the idea originally as a spec script for Parks & Recreation, a show on which she was a writer and co-producer. The Parks & Rec vibes are strong, especially in episode 5, “What to Expect on Your Trip.” As has been repeatedly pointed out, Dippold is also the person behind the infamous meme of the Babadook at the wine party, and that is really the perfect description of what this show is. It’s genuinely funny and actually scary. For my fellow wee babies who don’t handle horror well, be prepared to watch some of it with your hands over your eyes.
The cast
Matthew Rhys! Kate O’Flynn! Stephen Root! Dale Dickey! Kevin Carroll! Jeff Hiller! K Callan! Hamish Linklater! Chris Fleming! Betty Gilpin! This is Rhys’ first time as a lead in a comedy and he plays the straight man so well. There’s an old joke about how if a Black person realized they were in a horror movie the first thing they’d do is leave, and Carroll plays the sheriff exactly like that. He has noped out of the whole thing before the show has even started. No ma’am. Kingston Rumi Southwick is a relative newcomer, but he is very talented. He brings depth and heart to Evan, a character who could easily be written off as a stock teen character.
Something else I appreciate is how everyone looks like real people. It’s not to say no one is hot—do not even get me started on my weird little obsession with Matthew Rhys—but that no one looks plastic or fake. No one looks like they wandered off a catwalk or out of a studio executive focus group. The cast look like they could be your neighbors or coworkers. You need a show like this to feel crunchy and grounded or else it becomes too fantastical. (Yes, I said “grounded” about a show with a clown killer.)
The crew
With directors like Hiro Murai, Andrew DeYoung, and Samuel Donovan (all of whom have strong TV directing careers), as well as Ti West (who did the X film series), you know a show is going to be good. There are folks like music supervisor Toko Nagata (who also worked on some Mike Flanagan properties) doing perfect music cues and composer David Fleming creating incredible horror movie music homage instrumentals. And then you have everyone else on the crew, far too many to list here, banging out hit after hit in cinematography, editing, effects, casting, set and art design, costuming and makeup. Of course, I can’t forget the writers room doing their craft at peak performance. Every single person on that set worked their ass off.
The details
This is a show practically designed for multiple viewings. Every time you’ll pick up some little thing you never noticed before. Lights flicker ominously, strange faces appear in mirrors, unsettling artwork hanging on the walls. Some of my favorites: Rhys does a slightly different accent from everyone else; the newspaper article about a priest who got eaten by a whale and whose death was called a “sacrifice;” the way Patricia’s mug moves off the book; that Tom’s wolf calendar has a car crash as the photo for July.
“Dead baby. Dead baby. Lesbian.”
This show is eminently quotable. The entire cast deserve their own personal Emmy for line readings. “Except for the teeth.” “I know you asked me to be supportive, but I have my qualms.” “Once again, I’d like to remind everyone that it is not mandatory that you speak.” “Alright, fuggos, let’s go.” “There’s no rush to the augmentation of the soul, folks.” “These jackrabbits had six kids, and some of them have a few of their own, but you know what they say, ‘A family that swims together, drowns together.’” Tom: “Have you ever heard of the trolley problem?” Ruth: “You mean back in ‘42 when we tried to build one and all the workers disappeared?” “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. RUN.” “Old woman. Possibly damp. Faster than old woman should be!” “It’s perfectly safe to drive by the old hospital. You just can’t stop.” “Can’t do anything right today.” “I was just about to show Arthur the witch trial. Great source of pride. We caught ‘em. We burned ‘em.” “But he got bit by an animal and became that animal.”
So. Many. Horror. References.
Widow’s Bay is a love letter to horror movies. Jaws, Halloween, The Witch, The Village, Evil Dead, The Blair Witch Project, The Wicker Man, The Exorcist, several Alfred Hitchcock movies, and at least half of Stephen King’s backlist, among many others, pop up in one way or another. Sometimes it’s through shots or costume choices, sometimes it’s a specific moment in those movies, and sometimes the reference is a commentary on a trope, such as Final Girl Scream Queen Patricia’s slasher episode. It’s clear that the folks working on this show have a deep appreciation for horror, as well as a critical eye for its weaknesses.
Ladies, ladies, ladies
Many of the women on this show are middle aged or older. There are a couple teenage girls, but for the most part, the show reflects on what it’s like to be older and facing down societal pressure. We see women who are lonely and are haunted as adults by the consequences of choices they made as children, and women who defy social norms and thrive in that. Women are often discussed (usually by men) in terms of what they aren’t—young, mothers, married, etc.—but the tone always implies that the audience should bristle at this condescension. Horror movies are filled with mothers defending their children or hot young women being chased by monsters. When we get single, childless women in their forties, they’re often the villains or treated like pathetic, miserable cat ladies. Widow’s Bay revels in older women being exactly who they are, flaws and all.
Dudes, man
One of the key themes of the show is “frightened men who will do desperate things,” and all the implications that brings. Fatherhood, in all its joys and terrors and cruelties, is a central theme. We see a lot of fathers and father figures trying to navigate masculinity and toxic societal expectations. So much of what Tom is trying to do on the island is wrapped up in his complicated relationship with his son, Evan. It’s thrilling to see how the writers keep peeling back layers to reveal more about them as people and as father and son, thus shifting our understanding of everything that came before. Tom starts off the season as the mayor in Jaws, veers into being the father in The Shining, and becomes something much more interesting by the end. My only complaint is that the show is heavy on cishet white dudes and light on BIPOC and queer characters. I hope they diversify the cast next season.
The lore
I won’t get into this too much so as to not spoil anything, but what I love about the lore is how thoughtful it is. At first, it seemed like this show was going to be a season of random monsters of the week. But by the end of the season we can see how each creature not only furthers the plot of the season arc, but offers a ton of character development for the character dealing with them. The monsters are tailored to that character as much as they are to revealing bits and pieces of the island’s lore. I really hope in the second season we get episodes where Rosemary, Dale, Bechir, and Evan get their own lore encounters. And speaking of a second season…
We’re getting a second season!
If all of the aforementioned reasons aren’t to try the first season, maybe knowing it’s already so beloved by fans that Apple TV is fully invested in making more of it. This show is so damn good. It’s going to be very hard to bump it off the top spot in my Best TV of 2026 list, and it’s definitely in the top five of the 2020s. It’s firing on all cylinders (pun intended).
Bonus reason: Patricia. Patriciaaaaaaa. P A T R I C I A. Patriciapatriciapatriciapatriciapatricia. No, I will not be elaborating.
Bonus bonus reason: If I had a nickel for every time Hamish Linklater played a community leader who encountered a malevolent entity on a rundown New England island town, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.
