Widow’s Bay Episode 6 Recap: The Cursed Village’s Origins

It’s not that I ever forgot about Betty Gilpin. She’s a streaming-era stalwart whose sharp instincts, unmatchable aura, and finely-tuned line readings turn anything from a “Maybe I’ll watch it (lying)” into a “What platform is it on (sincerely)?” Since she last body-slammed Alison Brie on GLOW, Gilpin has been the best thing in stuff like American Primeval, Death by Lightning, and that Peacock show where she’s a nun who fights AI. Not everything she’s acted in is a winner, but she’s never the loser in any of them.

But sometimes reliably phenomenal talent can be so consistent you nearly take them for granted. I made this mistake recently with Steve Carell, and now Widow’s Bay is smacking me upside the head to remember that Betty Gilpin simply rocks. It happened when I fired up the first of two new Widow’s Bay episodes, released simultaneously this Wednesday morning, and found myself thrilled that she would the lead for a spooky one-off special. “Our History,” the sixth episode of Widow’s Bay, helmed by X trilogy architect Ti West, rewinds the clock way back to 1702, in the early days of the island village’s founding. Gilpin leads as Sarah, an over-the-hill spinster (by asphyxiating 18th-century standards, to be clear) who arrives by boat to marry the brooding widowed founder of the village, Richard Warren (Hamish Linklater). That’s when the nightmares start.

As if her new beau’s weird-ass vows weren’t a loud-enough warning to swim back to the mainland, Sarah is left hysterical over the even weirder things going on in town. Her controlling husband’s creepy evening rituals and proclivity for violence, missing villagers, and the hooded figures coming for them at night—it’s a lot for a woman whose worldview has been that existing as a single woman is worse than death.

Eventually, Sarah aligns with the townspeople to get Richard into their hands. But through Richard’s maniacal blabbering, it becomes a little clearer who, or what, is haunting Widow’s Bay. To Richard, a pact with God requires regular sacrifices or else “the terrors will not cease.” This is also how all those island-born cannot leave unscathed. Without Richard fulfilling the pact, Widow’s Bay becomes a literal dead zone where no one born on the island can survive beyond its shores. Which casts a grim shadow over Sarah and his children as they row into the dark.

Through it all, Gilpin is the glue that keeps the episode tight, followed closely by Hamish Linklater’s unsettling patriarch. (Written in my notes: “Colonial Undertaker.”) Gilpin’s performance is finely calibrated to creator Kate Dippold’s sensibilities, where comedy and horror swirl as one. Even when she’s crying before a priest, Gilpin knows when a deadly serious line could use a hilarious read. The amount of times I’ve now rewatched “You must send ten good, strong men!” is, honestly, embarrassing.

“Our History” is altogether an enlightening prequel that will satisfy Widow’s Bay’s budding lore hounds and a stand-alone horror about gender roles and marriage as an imprisoning institution. I’m frankly not well-read enough to know the nuances of domestic life in the colonies; I just know it wasn’t chill. Gilpin’s unabashed feminist politics that she’s laid bare in brilliant essays for Glamour and The Hollywood Reporter give her presence extra heft in that context. There are times in “Our History” when Sarah feels like a modern woman lost in time, handcuffed to her cruel fate for no reason other than circumstance.

The episode also exists in the tradition of exceptional side episodes, a recurring genre of episode that Apple TV is unusually good at. (See: Mythic Quest.) “Our History” doesn’t outrank Mythic Quest’s “A Dark, Quiet Death” or “Backstory!”—there’s no time for bittersweet melancholy when bargains have to be made with the underworld. But the episode winds up an effective and atmospheric diversion from Widow’s Bay’s main plot. It’s like someone dropped The Witch in our Jaws-flavored soup, but we’re hardly complaining when it tastes this good.

Not all questions people might have about Widow’s Bay are answered in “Our History.” We’re still uncertain as to who—or what, exactly—has Widow’s Bay in a vise grip. The villagers believe it’s the devil; Richard swears it’s God. Funny how perspectives work out like that. (I am also realizing now that this is the second show on which Hamish Linklater conspires with supernatural forces in a supposed divine mission to protect an island.) Maybe not all questions ought to be answered here; Widow’s Bay has been at its best when it plays with ambiguity. But so long as shows like Widow’s Bay cast actors like Betty Gilpin, I’ll believe in whatever they want me to believe.