When a struggling comedian shows an act of kindness to a vulnerable woman, it sparks a suffocating obsession which threatens to wreck both their lives.
Video / Netflix
Voters for the annual Primetime Emmy Awards aren’t exactly renowned for their razor-sharp judgment. The Emmys continued to name Modern Family as the best TV comedy series years after it had ceased to be remotely funny, and grimly stuck with Game of Thrones as bestdrama even as it descended into preposterous plotting bolstered by the occasional CGI dragon cameo.
But 2024 might be the most notorious Emmys year yet thanks to their coronation of a controversial and wildly overhyped show: Netflix’s Baby Reindeer,which has received a whopping 11 nominations. This despite the drama prompting urgent questions in the UK parliament, a pending lawsuit, and widespread condemnation of the streamer’s compliance policies.
Emmy voters do tend to go ridiculously overboard in rubber-stamping their favourites: this year also has25 nominations for Shōgun and 23 for The Bear, both Disney+ properties. Even so, by giving Baby Reindeer such a huge endorsement, the awards body has shown the same murky moral judgment as Netflix and the series’ creator.
Baby Reindeer began as a one-man show at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2019. Scottish stand-up Richard Gadd based it on his harrowing experience of being stalked by a woman, Martha, while trying to pursue a career in comedy. Netflix commissioned a screen adaptation, which landed on the platform in April and quickly became a surprise word-of-mouth hit — but, just as swiftly, a lightning rod for criticism.
The drama is prefaced by the definitive statement “This is a true story” – not “based on”, “inspired by” or any other softening language. That emboldened internet sleuths to seek out the real people depicted by Gadd, primarily his accused stalker and the successful TV executive, “Darrien”, who he claims sexually abused him.
Baby Reindeer offers a sympathetic portrayal of both the stalker and the stalked, highlighting Martha's (the stalker's) desperate struggle with mental illness. Photo / Netflix
Gadd subsequently pleaded with viewers to enjoy Baby Reindeer “as a piece of art”, fretting that people he knew were now getting “unfairly caught up in speculation” (indeed, the writer and director Sean Foley, who some thought, incorrectly, might be the real Darrien, was forced to contact West Midlands police to report defamatory and threatening social media posts). But it was far too little too late.
This continuing drama — which has long since engulfed the actual TV show — has even reached parliament. Netflix policy chief Benjamin King gave testimony to the culture, media and sport committee in May, claiming his company and producer Clerkenwell Films has taken “every reasonable precaution in disguising the real-life identities of the people involved in that story”.
King also made the rather insufferable statement: “I personally wouldn’t be comfortable with a world in which we decided it was better that Richard [Gadd] was silenced and not allowed to tell the story.”
That feels to me like a deeply disingenuous and alarmingly reckless framing of events. It should not be presented as an either/or — there are ways to make responsible drama based on true events without muzzling an alleged victim.
Perhaps Netflix didn’t expect Baby Reindeer to hit so big, and so thought no one would ask these questions — or perhaps it welcomed the scandal because it kept a spotlight on the show, boosting its already substantial viewer numbers. In April, Baby Reindeer clocked up 22 million viewers and 87.4 million hours viewed.
Now the Emmys have weighed in, and decided to blithely ignore all of that surrounding controversy. It’s not the first time that an awards body has rushed to bask in the reflected glory of a popular show, but it’s still pretty dispiriting.
Yet the big question is: does Baby Reindeer deserve 11 nominations and potentially a fistful of trophies?
Baby Reindeer began as a one-man show at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2019. Scottish stand-up Richard Gadd based it on his harrowing experience of being stalked by a woman, Martha. Photo / Netflix
There are some excellent performances. Jessica Gunning and Tom Goodman-Hill lend a dimension to Martha and Darrien, respectively, that isn’t always in the writing (the material definitely lost crucial nuance in its translation from stage to screen). But overall it’s too flawed for such slavering awards adoration.
Yes, it’s a shocking watch, but that’s down to the subject matter — and its real-world basis — more than the dramatisation. The screen version feels too theatrical, with a dominating voiceover, and it’s relentlessly gruelling, even sensationalist at times, with its horror-film-style queasy tilted angles.
I’d argue it compares poorly with rivals in its limited series category, such as the riveting Andrew Scott-led Ripley, or indeed past winners Beef or The White Lotus. So, is its hefty presence in the Emmys list more a question of hype over substance — voters determined to demonstrate that they’re aware of the “hot” show.
If so, that sets an alarming precedent. Other writers and producers will surely now feel they, too, can be much less careful about safeguarding. Harvey alleges, for instance, that Netflix failed to protect her identity and didn’t tell her the series was due to air.
You can take such an approach, the Emmys have seemingly demonstrated, and still win big in Hollywood.
