Animation
My Brother the Minotaur
‘My Brother the Minotaur’ is a preteen mystery with a lot of heart—though viewers should note it finds its roots in Irish mythology.
Widow’s Bay is lovely. Just lovely. I’m sure you’ll agree. Take a look around our little New England island, why don’t you?
Over there, you’ll see the Salty Whale, which serves the finest lobster this side of Nantucket. Oh, and the church on the hill? Picturesque, isn’t it? And historical, too. Don’t mind the bell tolling. It’s not a sign of a town curse or anything. HAHAHAHAHA! And the local bed and breakfast? It’s so quaint. So charming. But please, no, don’t rent THAT room! It has, um, plumbing issues. Yeah, that’s it. Plumbing.
Yes, Widow’s Bay is simply the best New England village you could imagine. So many stories. So much character. Why, if you’re born here, you’ll never want to leave!
Pay no attention to those old rumors that, if you’re born here, you can’t leave. That’d be crazy.
Um, that would be crazy, right?
Who’s that nervous-looking fellow, you ask? That’s Tom Loftis, the town mayor. He’s been to the mainland plenty of times. Oh, sure, he’s not technically a Widow’s Bay native, but he summered here plenty as a kid, and that’s almost as good. Tom, he’s working hard to make Widow’s Bay a real New England tourist destination, just like Bar Harbor or Martha’s Vineyard. He’s a little like that Amity Island mayor from Jaws. You know, the guy who wanted to keep the beach open when the shark started eating people?
But don’t worry. Widow’s Bay doesn’t have any sharks. Not usually, anyway. And not too many. Just enough to make things interesting. No, Widow’s Bay just has great lobster and colorful characters and lots and lots of fog.
Wait, FOG?! Let’s get inside. Quickly.
As I was saying, Widow’s Bay has lots of colorful characters and, um, completely normal, not-at-all threatening fog. Don’t look out those windows.
Why, speaking of colorful characters, there’s one at the bar, right there! Yes, by the woman with the axe. That’s Wyck. Funny old coot. Keeps talking about curses and hauntings and who knows what else. HAHA! As you might imagine, Wyck and the mayor bump heads now and then. But it’s all in good fun.
Come to think about it, most folks in town fight with the mayor from time to time. Maybe it’s ‘cause his teen son, Evan, is a bit of a troublemaker. Or maybe it’s just ‘cause they’re all a little set in their ways. Or maybe they worry that turning Widow’s Bay into a tourist spot just might get all those tourists killed.
Small towns are funny like that. Oh, yeah, don’t mind the guy in the clown outfit. He’ll vanish after a bit. Trust me.
Apple TV+’s horror-comedy Widow’s Bay takes us to a deceptively bucolic island that hides some very serious issues. The same could be said for the series itself.
You can’t fault the show’s quality. Boasting strong writing, great acting and a perfect 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes in its first season, Widow’s Bay is aesthetically strong. Referred to by some as a “greatest hits” compilation of horror film tropes, the show gleefully cherry-picks boogeymen from other books, movies and shows and gives them residence on the island.
But the show goes wrong in oh-so-many ways, too.
Let’s begin with the horror side of this horror comedy. This is a scary, supernaturally centric show, filled with ghosts, small-town legends and, yes, killer fog. While not particularly bloody yet (as of the first two episodes), Widow’s Bay’s bleak history touches on everything from serial murders to cannibalism—and one must wonder how dark this show might get before its finale.
But the comedy side comes with its own terrors. Drug use and sexual tension all lap at the show’s cold beaches. Language is strictly in R-rated territory. And Christianity takes a few mild elbows to the midsection, too.
Widow’s Bay comes with its charms, but many folks who visit this series might want to leave as soon as they show up. As our fictional tour guide might tell us himself, Widow’s Bay features some of the best writing this side of Nantucket—but don’t watch that screen: This horror comedy ain’t clowning around.
(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)
Mayor Tom Loftis welcomes a New York Times travel reporter into town—just as suspicious fog rolls in. Old-timer Wyck notes the fog and warns that the island is “waking up. And that’s when bad things happen.”
The fog, we hear, is an occasional visitor to the island, and it sometimes comes with company: The revenants of long-dead sailors who stalk the island like zombies. In 1842, the local paper called the weather disturbance the “fog that stole souls,” and noted that fog possession comes in a series of stages. First, the eyes turn white. Second, the victims lose all five senses and become delirious. Third, male victims can no longer become aroused.
“Who the h— is trying after stage two?” says Patricia, Tom’s most constant and loyal lieutenant.
A sailor disappears into the fog and, when he’s found, his eyes indeed turn white just before he attacks a visitor. The sailor dies before he can actually injure anyone, though.
The reporter arrives in Widow’s Bay early and stops by the town’s history museum—a place that definitely wouldn’t have made Tom’s list of approved venues. We overhear the museum’s director talk about various tragedies and horrors that took place in the town. We see a headline that reads, “Priest eaten by a whale,” as well as an exhibit that looks like a barbed-wire version of a crown of thorns. The museum director points to a bloodstained, pilgrim-like dress and tells the reporter that the town’s witch trials were a “great source of pride. We caught ‘em. We burned ‘em,” she tells the reporter, before Tom steers him away.
The reporter asks whether there was cannibalism in the town. “No,” Tom tells him—standing beside a newspaper headline that reads, “Cannibalism in God’s House.” (Apparently some citizens were trapped in a church for four days, leading to some eating each other.)
Patricia talks about one of the town’s past serial killers called the “Boogeyman,” noting that she still sleeps in a room where the door is blocked by a dresser. “But he murdered teenage girls,” Tom says, hoping to help. “You’re in your 40s. You’ll be fine.”
Tom’s son, Evan, is a troublemaker, and we see him smoking marijuana on occasion. Tom tries to talk with him about his habits, reminding Evan that he married Evan’s mother after the two learned she was pregnant. “You were the best surprise of my life,” Tom tells him. “And I just want to keep you safe.” Tom also adds that a certain form of birth control doesn’t work.
A worker at city hall seems to extinguish a marijuana joint when Tom walks in on her. She and others gossip, at one point noting that there’s “no age limit on syphilis.” Tom tells Patricia that he wants them to show the reporter “a good time.” Patricia pauses and asks, “What are you asking me to do, Tom?” insinuating that she thinks Tom is asking her to have sex with the reporter. (He’s not.)
We hear a reference to drugging a patient with “enough Propofol to knock out a horse.” Characters drink. We hear 16 f-word and two s-words. Also swimming in the dialogue are words such as “h—,” “d–n” and “d–k.” God’s name is misused about a dozen times—seven of which are paired with the word “d–n”—and Jesus’ name is abused thrice.
The New York Times’ article has been published, and it’s a huge success: The writer compares Widow’s Bay to Martha’s Vineyard, and as such, Tom tries to help prepare the town for the inevitable wave of tourists that’ll follow. But alas, Wyck is determined to close down the nicest inn in Widow’s Bay, given that it’s haunted and all. After some pressure from the townsfolk, Tom agrees to spend the night in the inn’s most haunted suite—to prove that the place is completely safe.
The townsfolk have some other requirements, though. In addition to staying in the Captain’s Suite (named in honor of a captain who went mad and killed his family with an axe), Tom must say “Ugly Hortence” three times (after which the “ungrateful Hortence Fitzgerald” will appear in a mirror or window, according to legend), crawl deep inside the inn’s creepy crawl space and conduct a number of other rituals that might just stir up some angry spirits. (Spoiler alert: It works.)
Tom apologizes to the local minister about his son ringing the church bell in the middle of the night. The rector knows this is impossible: The bell is chained in place. Horrified, the clergyman rushes back to the church reads a note from one of his predecessors that reads, “To the rector of the church. I pray that this burden will never fall to you. But should the bell toll, there are steps you must take.” (We don’t read what those steps are.)
The ghost of a serial murderer dressed as a clown appears. Tom discovers some incredibly creepy board games at the inn, and he plays one called “Daddy’s Home” with another guest. (The game seems predicated on a physically abusive father.) Other games include “Teeth” (which contains just a pair of pliers) and “Run” (which consists of a series of cards; Tom leafs through them and finds that most read “not yet,” until he hits a card that reads “run”). A corpse seems to lie in part of a basement.
Tom drinks with a guest at the inn, and both seem to consume too much. (The guest grumbles about the town’s “hicks” and expresses a desire for them all to be sent to hades.) Tom tells the guest that the island’s seemingly supernatural troubles are made up: “I always said the only thing this island is cursed with is alcoholism.”
Tom and the town’s pastor seem to be good friends. They meet at a bar, and the pastor offers a word of support to Wyck and his seemingly crazy antics by saying, “When the Lord gathers a herd, He calls a shepherd.”
“Oh, so you’re just phoning it in now,” Tom jokes with the pastor.
The rector laughs, but adds, “James 4:6, you know. Blah, blah, Bible, Bible.” (The verse is interesting, though, in that it tells us that “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble,” a potential reference to Tom and Wyck, respectively.)
It’s insinuated that Evan sneaks away from a woman watching him for the evening. A painting depicts a child getting washed out to sea. Characters say the f-word 10 times and the s-word once. Other swear words include “a–,” “b–ch,” “h—” and “p—y.” God’s name is misused twice, and Jesus’ name is abused once.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
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