My personality isn’t one that naturally aligns itself with being a ripe viewer for horror. I’m Type A, high-strung, with an external presentation that passes as “chill” and maybe, maybe even “cool” (ADD, no H, here) on a good day, but that’s usually just me masking the fact that I’m overextended and my body is slowly descending into shutdown mode. Like the power off button on a computer, which coincidentally also powers on a device. There’s some deeper analogy in there, but I’ve lost the thread, so onto horror and/or seizure-inducing, glitchy trance [brought to you by Jon Hamm, living his best mid-life moment in Apple TV +’s Your Friends & Neighbors].
When life is stressful and you’re wound tight by default, horror is a kind of escapism. No matter what scary shit is going on in the world, getting viciously murdered by Stephen King’s “It” clown, after he dives into your worst fear(s), (spoiler alert: it’s dying) is worse. Period. So when a show can mesh the tension-laden aspects of horror, without too much gore, and make me laugh cynically while giving me expert acting talent that sends my memory bank into an orgasmic recall whirl of “Wait, that’s the [person] from..[some random ass show]”, gosh, it’s a trifecta of perfection. I’m firing on ALL cylinders.
Folks, I give you, Widow’s Bay, starring Matthew Rhys and currently airing on Apple TV+ with 3 episodes released, and unfortunately for yours truly, only dropping an episode a week, or I would have binged it already.
Widow’s Bay, the titular setting of the show, also doubles as an eerie New England island off the coast not to far from Cape Cod where its citizens exude the ethos of the song “Homesick,” in which Vermonter Noah Kahan matter-of-factly declares:
“I’m mean because I grew up in New England.” - Noah Kahan, Homesick
New Englanders are gruff by nature, and the villagers of Widow’s Bay are exponentially more so. They have reason to be, too. Their island is steeped in horror lore, the kind that would send the average person sprinting for the ocean — even if they couldn’t swim — because somehow that still feels like the safer fate.
Matthew Rhys plays the island’s mayor, a widower and single father determined to bring tourism to the haunted little outpost. He’s tasked with the near-impossible challenge of gentrifying and marketing the antiquated, deeply spooky community to Northeast urbanites desperate for a cheap weekend escape. We’re talking the kind of people willing to overlook generations of ghost stories so long as there’s a quaint harbor, good chowder, and an Airbnb with “character.”
Gotcha some matcha, anyone?
The kid who plays Rhys’ son on the show is the most realistic teen boy I’ve seen on a show in a while and the relationship between father and son is outstanding. I think that’s also down to its writing and direction.
The cast is rounded out by Jeff Hiller (Somebody Somewhere, Pluribus), Stephen Root (Barry, News Radio), Dale Dickey (My Name is Earl), Kate O’Flynn (My Lady Jane), and of course Halt & Catch Fire’s “Bos” aka the reverend.
And I wholeheartedly agree with this Reddit user’s sentiments on Bos/Reverend actor Toby Huss and seeing H&CF actors on other shows. It’s bittersweet.
The show gives Midnight Mass vibes in its remote New England island locale, close-minded villagers/townies, suspension of reality in favor of supernatural horror and religious elements, and a main character to root for. Then again, I think I just described every Stephen King book plot, too.
Many people had beef with Baby Reindeer — a British black comedy and, arguably, horror series about a man stalked by a woman while simultaneously reckoning with the trauma of being sexually assaulted by another man. The kerfuffle, however, was less about the show’s harrowing subject matter and more about the offscreen discourse surrounding Fiona Harvey, who filed a $170 million defamation lawsuit claiming she was the real-life inspiration for Martha, the show’s stalker character.
I was not one of the beef people.
Regardless of the surrounding drama — which, at the time, felt akin to the very public arbitration spectacle of the Baldoni-Lively litigation (or “Livigation,” or “Litagadoni,” which sounds less like litigation and more like an artisanal pasta made of ligaments) — the show itself made for hypnotic viewing. Dark, gutting, and claustrophobic in its opening episodes, it eventually rounded a sharp emotional bend and barreled toward an ending too overwhelming for our hearts to neatly contain.
P.S. The uber-talented Kate Darracott wrote a bang-up review/commentary on the show back when it was on that captures pretty much all of my own feelings about it - only more incisive, eloquent, and far more cohesive.
All of that is to say: Richard Gadd, the creator of Baby Reindeer, is back. This time not on Netflix, but on HBO, with another emotionally lacerating, pulls-no-punches drama centered on toxic relationship dynamics. Only now, the lens shifts squarely onto masculinity and the male gaze, interrogating the ways men perform intimacy, power, resentment, and vulnerability with the same unflinching discomfort that made Reindeer such a difficult show to look away from.
The series centers on Niall, often and mistakenly called “Neil,” a gay teenager growing up with his single mother in a rough pocket of 1980s Scotland. Niall is bright, precocious, and deeply fearful, the sort of kid so polite and anxious that he never corrects people when they get his name wrong. He is, effectively, “the head.”
Enter Ruben: “the body” played by Richard Gadd. The son of his mother’s girlfriend, Maura, Ruben crashes back into Niall’s life when he returns to live in Niall’s bedroom, after a stint in juvie. From the opening episode onward, the show positions his arrival like an incoming storm. Niall, already bullied and perpetually bracing for humiliation, fears Ruben’s return as much as he’s drawn to it.
Ruben is every conceivable red flag. He’s volatile, angry, self-destructive, and damaged in ways that ripple outward onto everyone around him. But he also possesses the ability to protect Niall from the boys who torment him, to make him feel significant, or at the very least visible, in that intoxicating, puffed-chest way teenage boys so often mistake for safety.
Unfortunately, Ruben is also profoundly stunting for Niall. Their relationship traps him in a cycle of fear, dependency, and arrested emotional growth, preventing him from fully coming to terms with his sexuality or developing into a confident version of himself. Ruben makes Niall feel protected and desired, but never truly safe, and the distinction between those two things becomes one of the show’s most devastating insights.
Three episodes in and I’m hooked.
Your Friends & Neighbors S2 on Apple TV+ - Jon Hamm and Amanda Peet make this show incredible to watch. Mid-life “breaking bad” disruption for the 1%ers never looked so good.
Margo’s Got Money Troubles on Apple TV+ - Just started this David E. Kelly/Michelle Pfeiffer joint production starring Elle Fanning as a college student who gets pregnant by her professor and turns to drastic measures to support her family. Short, fun episodes. Pfeiffer and Offerman are such joys to watch!
The Audacity on AMC - It’s Silicon Valley meets Curb your Enthusiasm with Zach Galifianakis.
Steve Goldberg wrote a really thoughtful piece on male friendship and connection. He credited watching DTF St. Louis as being a source of inspiration and deeper thought about his friendships. It’s a must read:
In case you hadn’t heard I’m publishing a workplace romance from Empress Editions. SO THIS IS HAPPENING (the name of the book, that is) is headed your way in time for Valentine’s Day. Pre-order link pending. My wonderful publisher updated the Empress website today with this blurb which I’m still all kinds of gushing over.
This past week/-end I had the pleasure of attending Empress Editions (my publisher :) events in NYC celebrating the launch of Fallout by Eleanor Anstruther, at incredible book celebrations and lively discussions hosted by Kim Druker Stockwell and David Roberts.
I also got to see Kimberly Warner’s talk on the Open Secrets Magazine’s Physical Health panel at Symphony Space. Read more about that here:
Lastly, I had the pleasure and joy of spending time with brilliant fellow Empresses Molly Moynahan Elaine Wolff Meg Oolders and Margie Zable Fisher and our lovely editor Molly Z. Side note: Any women willing to indulge my chaotic impulses — like sprinting to the Metropolitan Museum of Art at 8:40 p.m. before its 9 o’clock closing just to stare at marble busts and discuss musculature — immediately earn a place on my “friends for life” list.
On May 16th, I’ll be moderating a romance panel in Massachusetts. You should come.
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