If you’re one of those people who think Widow’s Bay has given us its best shot when it comes to audacious rug pulls, you may want to withdraw your opinions now, because after seeding twists and turns aplenty in the first half of the season, the second half kicks in with undoubtedly the biggest surprise yet. You see, temporarily ditching the usual sights of Tom Loftis desperately trying to keep up his mayoral duties in the face of multiple supernatural curses, the entire show takes a detour to 1702 to suddenly shows us the origins of Widow’s Bay and all the funky shit that’s been inflicting it.
It’s obvious that the powers that be are taking this shift seriously, because they’ve also brought in X, Pearl and MaxXxine director Ti West to really help drive the rural horror home. But is it all so much of a change it throws off the momentum of the entire season, and can West manage to nail that understated humour while playing in the time of beleaguered settlements and frustrated puritans?
So, as I previously mentioned, the year is 1702 and former spinster Sarah Westcott is travelling to Widow’s Bay in order to marry a man she has never seen – community founder, Richard Warren. Sarah is understandably nervous and prays that her new husband is a kind and virtuous man, but as she rides into town in a carriage, it soon becomes obvious that something is decidedly off about the colony. A sickness related to a familiar sounding fog has started affecting townsfolk and causing them to act strangely and a rash of mysterious disappearances have also plagued Widow’s Bay, but Sarah is determined to make a go at her new life.
However, Richard proves to be something of a hard nut to crack as his stern, serious nature extends no recognisable emotion towards either his new wife or his five children from his previous marriage. But it isn’t long into her stay when she secretly witness her husband brutally murder a man who accuses him of contorting with the devil and she flees to the only refuge she can think of – the local church. However, not only does the town pastor already know of the godless acts that blight the island, but he and a secret gathering of folk have been waiting for the optimal moment to assassinate Richard, a moment that Sarah has just given them.
But when an attempted stabbing fails to take Warren out of the picture and his suspicions start to fall on his plainly terrified wife, Sarah realises she has to get her ass off the island post haste. But when a second attempt on the founder’s life leaves him unconscious, Sarah tries to leave Widow’s Bay via rowing boat with Richard’s five kids in tow while the vengeful townsfolk opt to bury their former leader alive instead. But as he admits that his deals with a supernatural force will protect him from death, a quick leap forward in time reveals that Wyck is about to get some answers in the present by digging the immortal bastard up…
I have to admit, for about the first five to seven minutes of “Our History” I’d thought that the incredibly reliable creators of one of TV’s best kept secrets had made an unfortunate error. While the laughs of Widow’s Bay have always been impressively subtle, they still manage to bring out huge belly laughs in me, but as we suddenly find ourselves in the 1700’s, there’s a creeping sense that this episode may not only have gone too subtle, but there may not be any laughs to be had at all. To be fair, I wouldn’t put it past the showrunners to pull a prank on us by giving us a totally serious installment midseason and the fact that we’ve gotten two episodes this week suggests that Apple are well aware of the episode is relentlessly strange. Adding to this is the presence of Ti West who, despite being a talented filmmaker (the X trilogy is fantastic), might not have been hired for his comedic talents when he can go full rural horror instead.
However, once we’ve gotten settled in to the big change, Our History manages to pull off an impressive trick. Yes, the episode focuses more on horror than any episode has before it and as a result, the humour is far more restrained than we’re used to, but when you realise that the entire episode is played straight other than the huge, excruciating bouts of social awkwardness, the show’s plan soon becomes clear. To be honest, I don’t think the episode would actually work if it wasn’t for a cameoing Betty Gilpin putting in some incredibly layered work as she somehow juggles drama, fear and near imperceptible humour to provide an episode that has plenty of laughs, but literally not a single actual joke.
All the amusement comes from Gilpin’s performance as her nerves fray, but she still has to try and keep the decorum a woman is expected to maintain during the time period when it’s set. One minute she has to silently direct an assassin who has come to the wrong (eg. her) side of the bed to kill her husband and the next she’s frantically writing bluffs in her diary mid-sentence when her husband suddenly walks in. In many ways, Gilpin is required to deliver the same, coiled spring, tightrope performance that Matthew Rhys has been nailing thus far, but the fact that she’s had to get this all out in a single episode is pretty remarkable.
In another act of spot-on casting, Richard Warren is being played by Midnight Mass’ Hamish Linklater, who’s gone from being conned by a vampire, to selling his soul to whatever nebulous evil lays claim to Widow’s Peak. While Gilpin has to perform her balancing act, Linklater keeps it simple as the monosyllabic, secretive and incredibly intimidating founder of the town, although he gets to cut loose once the game is up and he faces an eternity being buried alive by his own people. To put it bluntly, he sells the shit out of it, especially when he discovers that Sarah has taken his children off the island (people born in Widow’s Bay can’t leave, remember) and what’s even more creepy is we may already know their fate if one if the lurid paintings in the local hotel is to be believed.
Such is the intricate detail of Widow’s Bay that is now moving with such understated confidence, it can wrong foot us with a period-set episode that virtually includes none of the main cast. Yes, the laughs are more buried than usual (but not as deep as Richard Warren I’ll bet – *badump tish*), but it’s an impressive outing that really shows what an original gasp of horror/comedy it really has. After all, I can’t think of another show that could wring genuine laughs out of a scenario that mirrors Robert Eggers’ The Witch, while still offering up a near complete character arc and comedic slights of hand.
Widow’s Bay’s most challenging episode to date is in many ways one of its most rewarding as the balancing act it’s required to perform is genuinely something to marvel at. Yes, there’s fog-zombies, cold bloodied murder and the majority of the plot focuses on a woman terrified out of her mind that her demonically worshiping husband could choke the life out of her literally at any minute, but somehow the show manages to deliver the chuckles without making a mockery of the horror. Maybe the showtmrunners have also sold their souls in order to pull off such a trick.
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