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    What to Know About ‘Baby Reindeer,’ Netflix’s True-ish TV Hit

    The mini-series, based on the star’s experiences, has viewers wondering how much of it is real. Here’s the back story.Some spoilers follow.“Baby Reindeer,” Netflix’s absorbing, claustrophobic seven-episode thriller, has been an unexpected global hit — a success made even more surprising given its intense themes. It is far and away the most-watched show on Netflix, according to the streamer’s publicly released numbers, dwarfing every other show on the platform.The mini-series follows the character of Donny Dunn, a bartender and floundering comedian trying to navigate the fog of trauma and cobble together a sense of self while being mercilessly stalked and tormented by a woman named Martha, with whom he maintains a codependent connection, despite the harassment. The title refers to one of Martha’s many nicknames for Donny.Here’s what’s real about “Baby Reindeer,” and what viewers seem most curious about.Yes, That Is the Real Guy“Baby Reindeer” is the work of Richard Gadd, 34, who plays Donny, a slightly fictionalized version of himself. And if you were wondering how a regular guy could be such a confident, complex actor, it’s because he is a seasoned, award-winning performer who parlayed his autobiographical one-man show, titled “Baby Reindeer,” into the series, for which he wrote every episode.But once upon a time, he was the self-loathing performer we see depicted. “Baby Reindeer” takes meta storytelling to new levels.Yes, It Is Based on His Real ExperiencesEarly in the first episode, a message across the screen reads, “This is a true story.” And it is.“It’s all emotionally 100 percent true,” Gadd, who was the real-life victim of the stalking, said in a recent interview with Variety. “It’s all borrowed from instances that happened to me and real people that I met.” True with the caveat that “for both legal and artistic reasons,” as he put it, details had to be changed. “You can’t just copy somebody else’s life and name and put it onto television,” he said. “We were very aware that some characters in it are vulnerable people,” he added, “so you don’t want to make their lives more difficult.”The series is largely punctuated by language from real messages sent by his stalker (played by Jessica Gunning), which we see typed out onscreen. In his one-man show, a 70-minute monologue that premiered at Edinburgh Festival Fringe and would go on to win an Olivier Award (Britain’s equivalent of the Tonys), Gadd played her voice mail messages to the audience, and projections of her emails scrolled across the venue’s ceiling.According to Gadd, she sent him over 41,000 emails, tweeted at him hundreds of times and left him 350 hours of voice mail over the course of a few years.For the series, certain timelines were moved around “to make them pay off a little better,” he said. Nonetheless, “it’s a very true story.”Gadd Has Asked Viewers Not to Dig …While the saga, at first glance, is one of stalking and obsession, it is equally about the life-shattering effects of sexual assault. In the fourth episode, Gadd’s character is repeatedly drugged, assaulted and raped by a powerful television writer named Darrien O’Connor (played by Tom Goodman-Hill) who’d made false promises to help catapult the comedian’s career. (The sexual assaults were explored in Gadd’s earlier solo show “Monkey See Monkey Do.”)“Abuse leaves an imprint,” Gadd recently told GQ magazine. “Especially abuse like this where it’s repeated with promises.”The depiction of the abuse is graphic and disturbing, and knowing that the characters were based on real people prompted great interest in the identities behind them. But Gadd was quick to urge viewers to stop investigating. “Please don’t speculate on who any of the real-life people could be,” he wrote on Instagram. “That’s not the point of our show.”… Yet Viewers Keep DiggingAs more and more people binge the show, social media platforms have become amateur detective rings, with viewers trying to suss out the identities of the characters. The British writer and director Sean Foley was the subject of online threats when some thought that he was the real-life Darrien character.“Police have been informed and are investigating all defamatory abusive and threatening posts against me,” Foley said in a post on X (formerly Twitter) in late April.On Instagram, Gadd defended Foley specifically, writing, “People I love, have worked with, and admire (including Sean Foley) are unfairly getting caught up in speculation.”In the first episode, Gadd’s character searches Martha’s name online and uncovers a trove of articles about her past stalking — “Serial Stalker Sentenced to Four and Half Years,” reads one headline — which led some online sleuths to try to find the actual versions of those same articles.The show has become such a phenomenon that The Daily Mail published an interview with a woman purporting to be the “real” Martha, lodging her complaints about the show, though her name was not disclosed.When GQ asked Gadd what the stalker might make of the show, he said, “I honestly couldn’t speak as to whether she would watch it,” calling her “an idiosyncratic person.”“We’ve gone to such great lengths to disguise her to the point that I don’t think she would recognize herself,” he said. “What’s been borrowed is an emotional truth, not a fact-by-fact profile of someone.” More

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    Why Is ‘Baby Reindeer’ Such a Hit? It’s All in the Ending.

    The Netflix stalker series combines the appeal of a twisty thriller with a deep sense of empathy. The conclusion illustrates why it’s become one of the most-discussed shows of the year.This article includes spoilers for all of “Baby Reindeer.”The mini-series “Baby Reindeer” arrived on Netflix on April 11 without much advance hype, but it quickly became one of the most talked-about TV shows of 2024.It’s not hard to understand why. Based on the Scottish comedian Richard Gadd’s award-winning 2019 one-man stage show, “Baby Reindeer” baits its hook in the first episode, which introduces Martha (Jessica Gunning), an emotionally fragile middle-aged woman who appreciates the kindness shown to her by Donny (Gadd), a struggling stand-up comic who offers her a free drink in the pub where he works.By the end of that first episode, Martha’s neediness has begun to shade into creepiness. And by the time Donny discovers that his new friend has a history of stalking, she’s already begun what will eventually become a torrent of abuse, as she floods his email and social media with poorly spelled messages that insult his character and sometimes threaten sexual violence.What makes “Baby Reindeer” so effective is that as Martha pushes further and further into Donny’s personal life — attending his comedy shows, befriending his landlady, calling his parents — the audience shares his mounting feelings of powerlessness and frustration, cut with flashes of pity for the woman who is ruining his life. The show has the “slow-motion train wreck” appeal of a twisty true-crime documentary, but balanced with empathy for two profoundly broken people.A story as dark and uneasy as this one needs a proper ending, though. “Baby Reindeer” has one that is satisfying in its particulars, if haunting in its implications.Gadd (who wrote every episode) plants the seeds for the finale in the penultimate episode, the sixth, which ends with Donny having a career-altering meltdown while competing in a stand-up comedy contest. Donny’s comic style is highly conceptual, involving corny props and awkward jokes, designed to leave his audience wondering whether or not they’re meant to laugh. He’s like a Scottish (and much less effective) version of Steve Martin in his “Wild and Crazy Guy” days. (Or, as Donny puts it: “I’m a comedian when they laugh, a performance artist when they don’t.”)When the crowd can’t get on his wavelength at the competition, Donny ditches his props and just talks, sharing with a stunned audience the story that we have been watching for the previous five episodes. He tells them about how when he was a young and inexperienced comedian, he took an unpaid gig working for Darrien O’Connor (Tom Goodman-Hill), a well-respected TV writer who repeatedly drugged and sexually assaulted him. He tells them about his transgender girlfriend, Teri (Nava Mau), whom he’s too embarrassed to kiss in public.And, of course, he tells them about Martha, the angel and the devil on his shoulders: sometimes telling him how sweet, funny and handsome he is, and sometimes calling him a weak-willed, talentless degenerate.Gadd and Jessica Gunning in “Baby Reindeer.” Donny and Martha’s bond is deeper than it initially appears.Ed Miller/NetflixAs the show’s seventh and final episode opens, a video of Donny’s train-wreck performance has landed on YouTube (under the title “Comedian Has Epic Breakdown”), bringing him viral fame and new opportunities. The pressure of that higher profile — coupled with Martha’s ceaseless string of threatening voice mail messages — prompts Donny to confide in his unexpectedly sympathetic parents about being raped. All of these confessions feel liberating.Not too long after, one of Martha’s threats is dire enough to get her arrested — and eventually jailed. Gadd brings the conflict between Donny and Martha to a logical conclusion, with Martha finally acknowledging the harm she’s done by pleading guilty.So Donny lives happily … but not for ever after. More like for a day or two.The unsettling ambiguities of the “Baby Reindeer” epilogue — the real ending, which comes after Martha is safely locked away — are a big part of what has made the show a word-of-mouth hit.First, Donny finds himself going back over Martha’s old messages, and turning every one of their past interactions into pieces of a puzzle that he then pins up on his wall — like a detective trying to crack a complicated case. His inquiry even leads him back to the doorstep of the man who molested him, where Donny falls into an old pattern of deference and eagerness to please.Then, in the series’s knockout closing scene, a bartender gives a teary-eyed Donny a free drink, echoing what Donny once did for Martha. What makes Donny so upset? Take your pick: He’s still processing what Martha and Darrien have done to him. He’s furious with himself for not standing up to his abuser. He attained the fame he always craved and found that it didn’t solve his problems.The final trigger comes when, as he listens to one of Martha’s old messages, he hears her explain that she always calls him “reindeer” because he reminds her of the stuffed toy that comforted her during a rough childhood. For a moment, this former terrifying nuisance goes back to being a person worthy of understanding and even grace. Or maybe, again, it’s actually empathy: Donny ending the story in the same state in which he first encountered Martha makes manifest the bond between them.Part of the global popularity of “Baby Reindeer” is no doubt a result of the web sleuth dimension — the online rush to identify the real figures behind Martha and Darrien. Gadd has discouraged such speculation, and innocent people have been accused.But much of the show’s distinctive appeal comes from how, at a time when trauma narratives almost have become cliché in high-end TV drama, “Baby Reindeer” presents a more nuanced version of one. It authentically depicts trauma and mental illness as confusing, unpredictable and deeply personal, all of which is underscored by the emotional ambivalence of its conclusion.Donny finally achieves success but is ambivalent about it.Ed Miller/Netflix“Baby Reindeer” relies a lot on its subjective point of view. Donny’s voice-over narration dominates every episode, recounting in vivid detail his disgust with himself. The series’s two directors, Weronika Tofilska and Josephine Bornebusch, often keep the camera trained on Donny’s face, capturing his feelings of disorientation as even his best moments are disrupted by Martha’s constant intrusions. Viewers are drawn deep into Donny’s neuroses, which include, he and we begin to understand, an addiction to being the object of one woman’s obsession.But while this show holds close to Donny’s perspective, in a way it also sees the world through Martha’s eyes — or at least to the extent that Donny identifies with her. She’s out of his life by the end of the finale, but he still has to live with that part of himself that feels exactly how she feels.Throughout “Baby Reindeer,” Donny struggles to explain why he’s not more proactive when it comes to Martha. Why doesn’t he warn his friends about her? Why does he take so long to get the police involved? Why doesn’t he freeze her out the first time she turns weird?The answer is that, on some level, he gets it. He too is lost, lonely and awkward much of the time. That’s why there is no real triumph in besting Martha. For Donny, it’s like defeating himself — something he already does nearly every day. More

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    ‘Baby Reindeer,’ Netflix’s New Stalker Drama, Is Based on a True Story

    The Netflix series is based on the real-life experience of its creator, Richard Gadd, who also stars in the show.Richard Gadd and Jessica Gunning in “Baby Reindeer.”Ed Miller/NetflixRichard Gadd created and stars in the mesmerizing, complex drama “Baby Reindeer” (on Netflix), which is based on his experience of being stalked. Here he plays Donny Dunn, an aspiring comedian and miserable bartender, living with his ex-girlfriend’s mother and stewing in regret.So one day when Martha (Jessica Gunning) sits at his bar, he feels bad for her — he sees a fellow wounded bird who deserves a moment of compassion. But Martha isn’t just a sad sack; she is a convicted stalker. Soon she is emailing Donny hundreds of times a day, harassing his family and his exes, showing up at gigs and outside his house. It’s relentless, it’s terrifying, it’s … flattering?“Reindeer” is candid and disturbing, but not lurid. On lesser shows, nuance can play like a lack of conviction, but here it is the conviction, a rebuttal to pat victimhood narratives. It delves into the absolute pits of human experience not with a sage, well-adjusted perspective but with the mischievous bravado of a prop comic at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. (“Baby Reindeer” is adapted from Gadd’s solo show of the same title, which premiered at the festival.)We see Donny’s act bomb and bomb and bomb; to be a comedian is often one big indignity. Donny recognizes and articulates the dangers of wanting fame, how it warps his judgment but also could solve his problems. (One person knowing your darkest secret is unbearable, but a million people knowing it is stardom.) Agony and attention are bound together here — Look at me! No, not like that! — twin snakes choking the life out of their prey. The show is relentlessly, fascinatingly compassionate, answering the questions of “why would you …” and “why didn’t he just …” with probing clarity. Everyone is shaped by suffering, their choices and identities carved by humiliations large and small.The show is seven half-hour(ish) episodes, and they are the good kind of heavy.SIDE QUESTSIf you want something autobiographical and introspective about masculinity but without the horrors of stalking, all three seasons of “Ladhood” are on Hulu and the Roku Channel.If you actually love the horrors of stalking and want to add in serial murder and sultry whispers, all four seasons of “You” are on Netflix. (Only the first three are good.)If you want another fabulous show that started out at Edinburgh, it is always a good time to watch “Fleabag.” Both perfect seasons are on Amazon. More