It was around this time in my Woody Harrelson Film Festival—that is to say, the day before the night when I watched this movie—that I came to the realization I had in fact failed to include several movies from Woody's filmography on my master list of (supposedly) every movie Woody Harrelson had ever been in, and thus I was not so close to completing my task as I had previously believed.
It was a hard blow, at first. Almost demoralizing. Here I was, having spent more than a year of my life believing I had a list of Woody's every movie, and all along that list had been incomplete. It's a matter of the Wikipedia article of Woody's filmography not being complete (something I intend to take up with the editors in due course) and my own late decision to include TV movies and subsequently not being careful enough to make sure I discovered every TV movie Woody's been in.
In the end, though, I'm grateful for this mistake, because otherwise I never would have had the blessing of watching BAY COVE this late in the game, and consequently being fully and utterly rejuvenated in my quest. It's a movie that, for all intents and purposes, was made specifically for me and my viewing pleasure.
A small New England town. A history of Puritainism. Witchcraft (real witchcraft, that is—which is to say imaginary and spooky witchcraft, the type of which Giles Corey died from being falsely accused of, not the kind of witchcraft where millennials and middle schoolers do rituals about the moon and order incense from Amazon). Gaudy religious imagery. General stores with occult basements. Important plot points which are revealed by spelling the main character's name backwards or the presence of a bottle of grey hair dye. Woody Harrelson.
When Jerry and Linda Lebon move to Bay Cove, Massachusetts to begin their life outside of bustling Boston, just about the last thing they expect to find is a thriving, three hundred year old community of real-life witches. Woody's their best friend from the city, Slater, and he catches on before either of them do after a visit to the only cemetery on the island, where, mysteriously, there are no gravestones younger than three hundred years old. Of course, when he hops in his Jeep to head home, the devil interferes, pressing the pedal to the metal with an invisible foot, and sends Slater to a watery death at the bottom of a cliff. Things go downhill from there, and Linda ultimately discovers the witches of Bay Cove—or rather, Coven—intend to indoctrinate Jerry as the thirteenth member of their little club. In a truly spectacular finale, Jerry ends up stabbing himself dead, and Linda locks the remaining twelve witches in their local church where they are smote dead by God's furious lightning.
I am a firm believer in the TV movie. Without big budgets, without meticulous scripts, and without the pretensions of Hollywood—or worse, indie cinema—, TV movies have all that really matters in a movie: dramatic imagery, sizzling plots, and good old-fashioned fun. And, in this case, Woody Harrelson.
Where modern big budget horror movies are always a little too full of themselves and how scary they are, the TV horror movie is just the opposite. BAY COVE takes every opportunity available to it to provide us with spooky imagery, even when it has no bearing on the plot whatsoever. Like the moment depicted below, when Slater stops by Jerry and Linda's Boston apartment and inexplicably pauses for a long moment in the door just so we can get this spine-tingling shot:
It's just so perfect. Thank you to YouTube user "TVFanatic" for making this viewing possible—I hope the rest of you also take advantage of this opportunity.
Also, it's worth noting—if you're doubting whether this is too glowing a review—that this is the only horror movie Woody has ever been in. In his infinite wisdom, he knew he had already starred in the greatest horror movie that would ever be made. If you don't respect my wisdom, at least respect his!
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