In a chilling addition to Netflix’s true-crime vault, the three-part miniseries The Widower has landed like a shadow in the night, resurrecting the nightmare of Malcolm Webster—the charming Scottish nurse whose double life of deceit, murder, and insurance scams gripped Britain in the 1990s. Originally airing on ITV in 2014 to 5.5 million viewers per episode, the drama—starring Reece Shearsmith in a skin-crawling portrayal of the killer—has exploded back into the spotlight, drawing 8 million global streams in its first 24 hours. Fans aren’t just watching; they’re “shaking through every scene,” tweeting in horror: “This is so unnervingly real—knew it was true, but seeing it? Nightmares forever.” With Sheridan Smith’s gut-wrenching turn as Webster’s doomed first wife Claire Morris, The Widower isn’t mere entertainment—it’s a slow-drip venom that seeps into your soul, proving some stories are too terrifying to forget.

Adapted from the real Webster case by screenwriter Jeff Pope (Philomena), the series unfolds like a poison pill: sweet on the surface, lethal underneath. Shearsmith’s Webster is a master manipulator, a soft-spoken NHS paramedic with a boyish grin and eyes that hide a void. Episode 1 introduces him in 1994, courting Claire (Smith), a bubbly hairdresser from Aberdeen, with flowers and fairy tales. Their whirlwind romance culminates in marriage and a baby boy, but cracks appear—Webster’s mounting debts from a gambling habit, his secret affairs, and a growing obsession with life insurance payouts. “He’s the husband every woman dreams of,” a colleague gushes early on, the irony dripping like antifreeze. Smith’s Claire is heartbreakingly relatable: wide-eyed optimism hardening into quiet doubt, her laughter fading as Webster’s “accidents” mount. When their car crashes on honeymoon in New Zealand—Webster surviving unscathed while Claire burns—the truth glimmers: arson for profit.

The series spans 13 years of escalating horror, blending courtroom drama with domestic dread. Webster remarries Isabelle (Suranne Jones), a French au pair, only to stage another “tragic” wreck in 2000, this time injecting her with sedatives before sending her car off a cliff. His third victim? Fellow nurse Claire Morris (wait, no—second Claire, played by Sophie Stone), targeted in a 2008 scheme that unravels when a sharp-eyed pharmacist spots the pattern. Shearsmith’s Webster is a chameleon: doting dad by day, calculating killer by night, his Scottish burr turning saccharine lies into something sinister. “I just want what’s best for my family,” he coos, the camera lingering on his twitching smile. Jones as Isabelle brings French fire, her terror palpable in the cliffhanger crash scene that left viewers gasping.

Critics lauded it upon debut: The Guardian called Shearsmith’s performance “a chilling study in everyday evil,” earning him a BAFTA nod, while The Telegraph praised the “subtle, superb” scripting that avoids sensationalism for suffocating suspense. Averaging 8.4/10 on IMDb from 3,500 reviews, it’s hailed as “disturbingly real”—every forged document, every hushed affair drawn from court transcripts. Netflix’s timing is uncanny: amid 2025’s true-crime boom (Baby Reindeer, Monster), The Widower cuts deeper, its low-key horror a counterpoint to flashy forensics. Fans confess: “Shaking—it’s too close to how abusers hide in plain sight.”

Webster, convicted in 2011 on charges of murder, bigamy, and fraud, serves life in Scotland’s Low Moss prison, his appeals denied. The series honors victims without glorifying the villain, ending on a note of fragile justice. Stream all three episodes now—brace for the unease. As one viewer posted: “Unbelievable true story explodes back—sleep? Not tonight.” In the Widower’s web, trust is the deadliest illusion.