Service: Netflix
Series Year: 2024
Watch: Netflix
I know I’m late to the Baby Reindeer train. Everyone else on social media had pulled out of the station and was waving to me from the caboose as I pulled up to the station in my Uber. Yes, that is a fine metaphor. And I think some of this is a technical thing. I use an Apple TV to watch my streaming series. And for whatever reason Apple doesn’t have a deal with Netflix, so none of their shows appears in my ‘next on’ or recommendations queue. So, I had no idea this show existed prior to one of my podcasters offhandedly mentioning it as a phenomenon. And then following that up with a snarky comment of some sort about how it wasn’t his cup of tea. So, I put it off and then put it on.
That all said, I only peripherally knew what I was getting myself into with this show. I had the overarching understanding that there was this purported Scottish comedian/bartender who ended up as the stalking victim of a crazy lady in London. I knew just about nothing else. And, hey, this is an interesting premise. Not what I’d call super-commercial, but something about it caught fire and captured the viewing public’s imagination. I suppose crazy people are popular. Especially when they are tied to plots that are ostensibly true crime. Because true crime is also always going to be popular. You could imagine this as a true crime podcast. Or a Dateline. But when you fictionalize it, you can heighten it and tell that story in a nuanced way over the span of seven episodes to get to a full arc for our protagonist/victim/creator, Richard Gadd.
This series could have easily gone sideways. And, frankly, after experiencing it, I’m really surprised people were into this show. It’s a much more challenging watch than I expected. I came into it expecting kind of a light treatment of the stalking. I figured Gadd is a comedian, so he would make comedy from his situation and that would be the focus of the series. Kind of this dude crapping on an unstable and clear outsider whose lonely existence in some way mirrors his own. And it would be awkward and not terribly thought through. Because that’s generally the type of stuff that’s made for and enjoyed by mass audiences. But, hell no, that’s not what this was. It was incredibly uncomfortable. It was raw and open and Gadd isn’t at all afraid to make himself look terrible, self-serving and needy. And also really, really unfunny. On purpose.
Gadd’s character’s name in the show is Donny Dunn. Which immediately made me think of Bruce Willis’ character from Unbreakable, David Dunn. I don’t know why, but it did. His stalker, who just wandered into his bar one day, is named Martha Scott. Who I supposed only evokes Michael Scott from The Office. But it wasn’t something I thought of at the time. In some way the whole series is a bit of a two-hander. Gadd is excellent as himself. He’s incredibly skinny and unhealthy looking. His haircut is atrocious. And when he does his very Carrot Top prop-comedy act, he really embodies his consistent and enduring failure. The depression and confusion about the audience’s reaction to an act that by all accounts is deeply unfunny. I assume this is the intention. And then when Martha (Jessica Gunning) sits down at the bar and proceeds to compliment him about his looks. His funniness. His genius. He eats it up. She is everything that he wants. That he craves. And Gunning is so convincing as this emotionally damaged, sociopathic ex-lawyer that their innocent flirtation (innocent to him, at least) feels real and earned. You can almost understand how he encourages her stalking. Despite it being incredibly dangerous and damaging. Both to her and to him. But how do you say no to someone who is feeding your ego when that’s all you really desire? It’s twisted, but it feels like something that could happen.
So, the show is not funny, really. Again, I don’t think that’s by accident. It’s so, so dark at times it’s almost impossible to watch two episodes back-to-back. The stalker is not the only trauma in Donny’s life. Because, once again, he puts himself in a position to be taken advantage of (not to victim blame; he says as much) based on the sheer ego stroke that this person provides him. It will have you shouting at your TV. But the series is so thorough in setting up Donny’s psyche that you totally get why he continues to debase himself and/or not report reportable crimes for just a glimmer of success and attention. It’s sad. He’s sad. A sad clown, of sorts. It’s all very cringey, but also very well done.
Integrated into Donny’s immeasurable issues is his struggle with his sexuality. He seems to find a middle-ground by frequenting trans-women dating sites and actually finds someone who values him in Terri (Nava Mau). She, by the way, is also terrific in the series. But, once again, his self-sabotaging nature and lingering doubts and trauma from his assault (among other things) makes it impossible for him to take happiness for what it is. So why not go back to the most unhealthy relationship of all with Martha?! So broken, this dude is. There is some actual familial reconciliation as the series wraps up, but the show, once again, defies the norm by not going the direction you’d expect. Because Gadd is the creator and writer of this show and this is in some ways “real life,” you’d figure we’d end up with a nice “Hollywood” ending with maybe a title card telling us that Donny did eventually land that Netflix deal and produced the service’s #1 show, etc. But, no, they do this really excellent job of bringing it all full circle in a moment that does a great call back to remind you that, after all, Martha and everyone else in this story is a human being. And you, like them, could end up the stalker. You, like them, could end up the crazy person at the bar with a head full of secrets and a heart full of nothing but neediness.
