I watched the first 6 episodes of Widow's Bay on Apple TV — and the dark comedy horror show had me coming back for the humor, but not the frights

Light spoilers follow for Widow's Bay episodes 1 to 6.

Apple TV is home to plenty of award-winning and praise-worthy shows, but there's one genre that the tech giant's entertainment division has so far failed to get right: horror.

It's not been for a lack of trying. The Enfield Poltergeist, Servant, and various other projects have seen Apple dip its toes into terror-filled waters before. For some reason, though, it's struggled to replicate the success it's had with its myriad alternative genre offerings.

So comes the turn of Widow's Bay, a dark comedy horror whose premise and genre mash up look and sound original enough to potentially give Apple its first horror hit. After seeing the first six episodes, I've got to give it credit for being effective at what it does — but it's not the spooky showpiece that'll convince horror devotees to sign up to the streamer.

Paranormal activity

Widow's Bay introduces us to Tom Loftis (Matthew Rhys), the eponymous island town's mayor who ran and won its most recent election unopposed.

A high-strung and cowardly mainlander, the ambitious Loftis sees the potential for this small, outdated settlement to become North America's next big tourist attraction.

The problem? Save for a few inhabitants, such as Loftis' emotionally repressed assistant Patricia (Kate O'Flynn), the townsfolk, including renowned oddball Wyck (Stephen Root) don't respect Loftis or want outsiders upsetting their way of life.

Winning over the locals, though, is the least of the Loftis' issues, because the titular town is believed to be cursed. Predictably, no sooner is Loftis' dream of turning Widow's Bay into a cultural hotspot on the cusp of being realized, the very myths that are too preposterous to be true soon make themselves known.

Widow's Bay's fright-filled folklore might give the impression that the horror part of its genre dyad is the dominate force at play.

Creepy, unsettling, and dingily atmospheric as it is, though, I wouldn't describe it as particularly terrifying. There are moments that had me saying "nope nope nope" to myself, and I appreciated the eeriness of its rural town setting and ability to dial up the tension where necessary. Nonetheless, for all of its jump scares — ones I'd describe as half-hearted at best — and uneasy ambience, Widow's Bay is definitely more of a dark comedy than a traditional supernatural horror.

And it's that humor, of which there is plenty, that Widow's Bay successfully hangs its hat on, especially in earlier episodes.

Spearheaded by the ever-excellent Rhys, whose bumbling, crabby, and sceptical Loftis reminded me of a modern day Basil Fawlty, aka the protagonist of iconic British sitcom Fawlty Towers, Widow's Bay is full of laugh out loud moments.

Indeed, whether it's Loftis' never-ending battles with the island port's lazy, incompetent, and/or superstitious natives, Rhys' impeccable comedic timing and delivery of sarcastic, deadpan, and cringeworthy ripostes to said individuals, and its main character's general buffoonery, I guarantee you'll crack up numerous times while watching Widow's Bay.

Sinister undercurrents

That said, Widow's Bay isn't a laughs-a-minute caper by any means. Indeed, like the supernatural entities that lurk beneath the town's surface, its eclectic cast of characters are similarly haunted by their own demons and trauma-laced pasts.

It's these character-driven storylines that give this series more of an edge than the metaphysical beings that Loftis and company come across, too.

For Loftis, it's a decades earlier heart-breaking family incident that, in the present, has bred an increasingly strained relationship with his unruly, weed-smoking teenage son Evan (Kingston Rumi Southwick). In Patricia's case, it's a terrifying ordeal during her own teen years — an event we tentatively learn about in the first three episodes before it's fully reveal in soul-crushing fashion in chapter four.

Disappointingly, other members of its wonderfully weird cast — Wyck and Rosemary (Dale Dickey) being notable highlights — don't benefit from the same introspective treatment in Widow's Bay's first six entries.

That might be rectified in episodes I'm yet to see. However, apart from the Patricia-starring fourth chapter and the series' sixth episode, the latter being a flashback episode that reveals some hugely important details about why the town is cursed, Widow's Bay is sadly unconcerned with giving its quirkier individuals a episodically specific platform to shine on.

And that's a pity because, with early installments channeling a 'Monster of the Week' format not unlike legendary sci-fi shows such as The X-Files, there's certainly room for Widow's Bay to spotlight said characters by way of episodic subplots amid its overarching story.

It's missed opportunities like this, plus the apparent lack of interconnectivity between Widow's Bay's various scare-based fables, that imbalance it narratively.

Indeed, with its primary mystery taking center stage in its latter half, its aforementioned 'Monster of the Week' arrangement quickly falls by the wayside. I'll reiterate that I haven't seen passed episode 6, so this criticism may be moot if Widow's Bay ends up tying its paranormal enigmas to its main otherworldly horror in the home straight. If it turns out that there's no throughline, though, I can't help but wonder if, intriguing as each standalone ghost story, why it was necessary to include them unless Widow's Bay was developed as an anthology series instead.

Less of a critique and more an observation are the clear parallels between Widow's Bay and similar new weird programs, such as Prime Video's Outer Range, CBS' The Twilight Zone, and Apple's very own Severance. Fans of one or more of these shows, then, will find Widow's Bay to be right up their alley — as will devotees of Stephen King and John Carpener, albeit through Widow's Bay's somewhat on-the-nose references to their body of works.

Above all others, though, it's hard to overlook the influence that cult classic TV show Twin Peaks has exerted on Widow's Bay.

Indeed, there's no denying that the new Apple TV show was heavily inspired by Twin Peaks' surrealist mystery horror leanings. Set in a small town frozen in time? Yep. A story filled with supernatural elements and dark secrets? Check. Populated with zany, morally gray characters? Absolutely. Offbeat humor? You bet.

That's not necessarily a bad thing — after all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so it's no surprise to see Widow's Bay compared to one of David Lynch's most memorable works. Nonetheless, despite their clear similarities, suggesting that it's Apple's answer to Twin Peaks is, ahead of Widow's Bay's release and accounting for how revered Twin Peaks is, something of an exaggeration.

My verdict

As an overall experience, I've enjoyed my time in Widow's Bay so far, and I look forward to the rest of my stay and seeing not only how its final four episodes wraps up its story, but also if they address some or all of the problems I've outlined above.

Even if they don't fix its clear issues, though, Widow's Bay is the first recommendation-worthy horror show that Apple TV has to offer. If the tech giant can refine the development process of such genre works in the same way it did with, say, its sci-fi offerings, there's no reason why it can't become a regular *ahem* haunt for those who prefer their stories to be as dread-inducing and frightening as possible.

Widow's Bay will launch on Apple TV with a two-episode premiere on Wednesday, April 29. New episodes air weekly after that on one of the world's best streaming services.

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