Baby Reindeer is a hard watch – which is why everyone needs to catch the series on Netflix now.
Anyone who knows me is aware that getting me to start a show is like pulling teeth. I’m content with doing my sixth (maybe seventh?) rewatch of Criminal Minds, letting it play in the background while I’m multitasking. But, when a series catches my eye, I’ll greedily binge watch it to the very end. That’s what happened when I stumbled upon a trailer for Netflix’s latest limited series, Baby Reindeer. Almost immediately after seeing it, I loaded up my laptop and found myself glued to the screen for four morbidly fascinating hours. Now, I’m here to gather my thoughts to share the experience with you.
There’ll be light spoilers ahead as we get into my review of Baby Reindeer. If you plan on watching it, be warned that a lot of heavily triggering topics are unabashedly explored in each episode. It’s not for the faint of heart.
Baby Reindeer review: A new surprise at every corner
This limited series created by Richard Gadd is inspired by his autobiographical one-man show. It’s based on his real-life experience of being stalked and assaulted in his 20s. Donny Dunn (played by Richard Gadd himself) is a struggling comedian trying to make it big in show business while working as a bartender to make ends meet. During a shift, he finds himself offering a free cup of tea to a distraught woman named Martha (Jessica Gunning) in hopes of cheering her up. Little did he realise that act would change the trajectory of his life.
He (kinda) unknowingly turns himself into the object of Martha’s obsessive affection. As the relationship begins to unravel into something ugly, his almost life-threatening encounters with Martha force him to deal with the inner demons he’s been suppressing. Soon, you discover the rest of Donny’s dirty not-so-little secrets that’ll send you into a whirlwind of emotions.
The devil is in the characters’ details
There’s so much to say about the show, but let’s start simple – storytelling and characters.
The series leads you to believe it’s a simple stalker-victim scenario, reminiscent of You or Saltburn, but from the victim’s point of view. The first episode is almost lighthearted in its introduction, the vibe leaning towards sitcom material rather than drama or horror. Donny presents himself kindly, as if he’s doing Martha a favour by complimenting her and listening to her endless stories.
The shift is so subtle that by the time you realise something’s wrong, it’s too late to stop it. You barely even notice when things become unsettling, and it’s almost magical in a disconcerting way. The power comes from brilliant acting. Jessica Gunning does an astounding job of giving a complex and layered portrayal of Martha. While she should be considered the antagonist, you cannot help but feel for her.
Richard Gadd draws from deeply vulnerable personal experiences to bring us the main character, Donny. When you think of the phrase, “The light drains out of his eyes”, he comes to mind. The moments where Donny goes from hopeful to listless happen in the blink of an eye, and you recognise them instantly. Oh, and don’t get me started on Tom Goodman-Hill’s portrayal of Darrien (Donny’s mentor) either. If I could sum up his performance in one word, it would be chilling.
The art of being seen
Under the deeply disturbing layers, I’m in awe of this uniquely nuanced take on what a victim’s psyche looks like. Although the show’s main spotlight is on male victims, the message is relatable to anyone who has experienced some form of abuse.
We seek out black-and-white answers to keep things simple. Because if our path is predictable, we can reclaim a sense of control that helps keep us sane. The unfortunate reality of the world is that healing often isn’t linear. Human emotions are complex and require tumultuous navigation. Even if we know the “right” thing to do, sometimes it’s not the choice we want to make.
Donny displays this hesitation throughout his various encounters. He admits openly that he shouldn’t have led Martha on, but can’t help himself because she flatters him in return. Even after enduring abuse from his mentor, Darrien, in a dire situation where the appropriate response seems to be straightforward, Donny chooses not to leave. Instead, he spends the days afterwards in his abuser’s company. In his mind, Darrien was the key to achieving his dreams.
In a perfect world, victims would speak up about their assaults. They would say no when approached by their abuser again, go to the police as soon as they can, and feel safe doing so. But the world and our circumstances aren’t perfect. To some of us, Donny’s actions may seem unfathomable. However, if you’re like me, you might be part of the group that feels both seen and called out. And that is the beauty of this limited series.
An unforgettable watch, in both good and bad ways
Like I said, this series is not one for the faint-hearted. It reaches somewhere deep within you, pulling out a dichotomy of sympathy and disgust. It’s a confusing set of emotions, almost overwhelming as you go through the show. Each episode brings new twists and turns that will have you glued to your seat and tuned in, no matter how much you want to turn away.
It is a hard watch, but well worth the hours. Richard Gadd has found a way to capture the ugly side of being a victim, and the painfully heavy choices that come after. He shows us the complicated feelings of fear and the strange comfort of keeping your abuser and stalker around because it makes life feel normal, almost meaningful. It’s the thought that it’s too late to take any action and the haunting question of why it took so long for you to do something about it.
But there’s not an ounce of victim-blaming involved. The limited series addresses the reality that not everything in life is black and white, especially as a victim struggling to overcome trauma and prevail.
I walked away from Baby Reindeer with a few more emotional calluses and an odd sense of relief. But is it because I’m thankful to be done with it, or because I’ve finally found a kindred spirit in Richard Gadd through his work? I’ll have to give that some thought.
