PR in the Philippines

(SeaPRwire) –   The similarities between Widow’s Bay and Stephen King’s work are evident from the start, but they become most tangible when the mayor of the titular island town, Tom Loftis (Matthew Rhys), encounters the ghost of a literal murderous clown in the second episode. The scene is suitably terrifying — Tom faces the apparition in the crawl space of a clearly haunted hotel — yet the Apple TV series quickly pivots this into the perfect comedic setup. Tom appears to be the sole Widow’s Bay resident who rejects the countless superstitions woven into the town’s ancient history. He’s only at the hotel to disprove its long list of associated ghosts, but the morning after, the Bay’s quirkiest old seadog, Wyck (Stephen Root), needs just one glance at him to remark, “The clown — that’s what got you, huh?”

Root’s straight-faced delivery and unwavering dedication as Wyck elevate Widow’s Bay from a horror homage to a clever comedy. Several critics have likened the series to a more somber, drier Parks and Recreation — a fitting comparison, as its creator, Katie Dippold, used an early draft of this story to secure a position in the Parks and Rec writers’ room.

“It was a very different version,” Dippold informs Inverse. “It was packed with jokes, so it showcased my humor, but it also wasn’t a feasible show to produce.”

In a way, the spec script that evolved into Widow’s Bay also feels like it shouldn’t exist — in the most positive sense. Horror and comedy have a long history of blending seamlessly, their rhythms often aligning. However, the style of horror that extracts humor from realism is a more recent development, with films like Weapons and Barbarian (both directed by Zach Cregger) adeptly focusing on the tension between the absurd and the ordinary. Then there’s Donald Glover’s Atlanta, a series so uniquely funny and strange that it stands alone. Except, perhaps, for Widow’s Bay — which smartly enlisted Glover’s frequent director, Hiro Murai, to helm its initial episodes — it’s possible nothing else will.

“I’m such a huge fan,” Dippold states regarding Murai. “Atlanta was a major inspiration for me.” The FX series was on air while Dippold was revising Widow’s Bay, and its unpredictable nature affirmed that her creative ambitions were attainable. “I was utterly amazed by the storytelling and the unexpected choices they made. I could never guess what an episode would hold.”

That same fluidity shapes the semi-episodic structure of Widow’s Bay. Dippold also drew significant inspiration from King, from Steven Spielberg’s Jaws, and from her own recollections of 1980s New Jersey, a time when haunted houses were “lawless” and pulled out all stops to frighten visitors. Dippold frequented an especially terrifying one each summer: “I would scream, and then when someone else screamed, I would laugh… That sensation is something I’ve been pursuing my entire life.”

Admittedly, there’s also a hint of Parks and Rec in Tom’s impractical mission to transform Widow’s Bay into the premier East Coast tourist spot. He spent childhood summers on the island but lived mainland the rest of the year, making him a sort of opposite Leslie Knope: an outsider who neither comprehends nor values the town’s old traditions. He aims to mold it into the next Martha’s Vineyard — or even settle for Bar Harbor. Yet with unwelcoming locals, tales of cannibalism and ghosts, and, of course, a fog that (supposedly!) steals souls, he faces a monumental challenge.

“Part of the enjoyment was brainstorming in the writers room,” Dippold explains. “We’d generate various concepts for artifacts, newspaper clippings, sketches, or sea shanties. It all seems almost humorous in retrospect. But then you realize, Wait, these things are beginning to return.”

Another pleasure is encountering the vibrant characters of Widow’s Bay. Each is, in their own manner, anchored in some bygone era — though on a Wi-Fi-less island, that’s predictable. Tom is perpetually at a disadvantage, not just because of Wyck, who evolves into a Mulder to his Scully. The entire town subtly opposes him, including his sharp secretary Patricia (Kate O’Flynn). Still, Tom holds his own. When Patricia voices fear of being a target for a rumored serial killer, Tom swiftly reassures her: “He murdered teenage girls. You’re in your 40s.”

Rhys’s performance — blending physical comedy with authentic emotion — acts as a conduit for Widow’s Bay’s shifting tone. His Tom resembles a Cary Grant or Frasier Crane dropped into the Twilight Zone: one moment he’s humbling himself before blue-collar townsfolk; the next he’s displaying his dramatic skill in quiet scenes with his rebellious teen son.

“I believe that man can do anything as an actor,” Dippold remarks about Rhys. “Loftis’s stance is, ‘Yes, terrible events have occurred here, but that doesn’t confirm the supernatural.’” Dippold strived to balance his skepticism with the genuinely eerie occurrences in Widow’s Bay — as the story unfolds, a genuine tug-of-war emerges between Tom and locals like Wyck. Who is truly correct about the events? Could both be right? Only time will tell, but their journey promises to deliver equal parts laughter and fright.

Widow’s Bay is now streaming on Apple TV.