The new Netflix miniseries Baby Reindeer, a dark comedy about a woman stalker, begins with: ‘This is a true story.’ At first I thought this was a joke, the same way that Fargo announces every one of its completely fictional series. But the makers of Baby Reindeer aren’t joking. The show is funny but it’s no joke. It is a true story. Writer and actor Richard Gadd based series on his years-ordeal with a convicted stalker, which lasted for years and landed him with PTSD. 350 hours of voicemails; over forty thousand emails; 744 tweets. Plus the actual stalking through the streets of London, to his work, his comedy gigs and his own house. It would be terrifying if it was a man stalking a woman—here it is a frumpy, goofy looking forty-two-year-old woman chasing after a twenty-something man. You might think this way round it’d be funny, but it isn’t.
Writer Richard Gadd plays Donny (ie himself), an aspiring comedian who moved to London to find fame. Half a decade on and the bohemian lifestyle has lost its lustre. For Donny, London has become ‘a city where you wake up and you’re the background artist to a cast of millions.’ Anyone who’s ever tried to ‘make it’ in London as an artist knows the feeling. Donny is a bit pathetic, traipsing around dingy pubs in his red and yellow checked two-piece, lugging a suitcase stuffed with props like a chicken slinky and a hat with a toy mink on it. A mink hat. Get it? His comedy sets don’t go down well—in fact they’re excruciating—and he works pub shifts to fund his passion. He’s no longer twenty and thirty is looming. Then on an ordinary day at work, Martha walks into the pub, plunks herself down at the bar and cries. Donny asks if she’d like a drink. ‘I can’t afford it,’ she says. ‘Cup of tea?’ he asks. No answer. ‘I’ll get you a cup of tea. It’s on the house.’ This small act of kindness changes Donny’s life forever.
Martha comes to the pub every day thereafter, sits down at the bar and chats nonstop to Donny during his shift while he serves her Diet Cokes on the house. She’s clearly mad—a fantasist who says she’s been a legal adviser to Nigel Farage and David Cameron— but she laughs at Donny’s jokes so he lets her hang around. His co-workers call her his girlfriend and Martha latches onto the idea. Most people would get the hint, that Donny isn’t actually into her, but Martha sees his awkward avoidance as encouragement. He even agrees to go on a picnic with her. Martha may be mad but she’s not wrong that Donny occasionally gives her reason to hope. This is what sets the show apart from other stalker stories—Donny isn’t entirely a blameless victim. Of course he can’t have known that his new shadow was a convicted stalker but he knew he was dealing with someone unstable and he kept messing with her anyway. ‘I think you enjoy it,’ says his new girlfriend, a trans woman therapist named Teri. ‘I think she gives you something you need.’ Attention. Admiration. Teri’s not wrong.
Donny also does stupid things which won’t help his case if he takes it to the police (which he finally does, much too late). He stalks Martha himself, following her home and peering in her sitting room window at night. Martha knows he’s there and she likes it. Then after finding out Martha’s served time for stalking, Donny accepts her Facebook invitation. He isn’t running from her. In repeated acts of self-sabotage Donny keeps her around. Then after ignoring hundreds of sexual invitations over email Donny finally accidentally solicits Martha for anal sex. It wasn’t really Donny—it was his mischievous co-workers taking over his account, but Martha doesn’t know that. The police won’t either. Donny gets himself in such a tangle that, by episode three he seems like the one harassing Martha.
The script is fantastic. The actors are completely convincing. Jessica Gunning plays all the facets of Martha with curiosity and compassion. One minute she’s giggling with excitement at Donny’s attention, the next she’s shouting ‘whore’ or ‘tart’ at the thought of Donny’s ex-girlfriend. She’s hugely overweight and a lesser script might make fun of that. Think of all the American lad comedies where fat girls are the punch line. But in Baby Reindeer her unlikely appearance disguises the fact that she is capable of real violence. It comes to a head mid-series when Martha discovers that Donny has a new girlfriend. Teri, whom he meets when he signs up to a trans dating website using a fake identity, is another solid character played by trans actor Nava Mau. She’s beautiful—high cheekbones, dark hooded eyes and perfect lipstick. Donny falls for her right away. But surprisingly, the script admits that Donny is ashamed to be dating a trans woman. Even if that isn’t true of writer Richard Gadd himself, it’s brave to portray any kind of shame or disapproval of the trans lifestyle. Teri proves herself to be much more than her sexual orientation—she is smart, funny and confident, a successful therapist and an all-round good influence on Donny. But he risks losing her if he doesn’t man up and prove his love; and if he doesn’t protect her from Martha.
Baby Reindeer is a surprising, gripping, disorientating blend of comedy and tragedy. I don’t know which is harder to watch, the scenes of sexual violence or Donny’s stand-up comedy routines. My husband can watch any kind of film, body horror, Saw movies, no problem—but he found Donny’s stand-up too agonising to watch. As the series approaches the end Donny has almost nothing left. He even scuppers his one shot at winning the minor pub comedy competition. Will he finally pack it in and go home? Tell the police everything and stop sabotaging his own interests? And what will happen to Martha? You could just Google her to find out—but this dramatized version of the story is worth the watch.
