In April 2024, Richard Gadd met us at a place with which we are all familiar—the subconscious, housing unrestrained attachment and guilt. His innocent act of kindness toward a distraught Fiona Harvey, an unsuspecting customer during his bartending shift, soon unraveled into her unnerving stalkery. This unraveling was the center of Gadd’s magnum opus, his autobiographical Netflix breakout “Baby Reindeer,” where his story of obsession, abuse, and mental illness is thrust into focus.
According to the offbeat true-crime series, Donny, played by Richard Gadd, is a part-time bartender, part-time aspiring stand-up comedian. He repeatedly encountered Martha—a character mirroring Fiona Harvey—at his workplace. Martha’s invasive comments and suggestive remarks to Donny soon escalated; she sat soullessly at the bus stop outside his house, sent a barrage of online messages daily, attacked his girlfriend, and subjected him to public outbursts, revealing her “abandonment issues on steroids” (Katie Couric Media).
Compelled to investigate his stalker, Donny followed Martha home, but after noticing him, she perceived this as the first major development in their relationship (“Baby Reindeer”). This “relationship” was to devolve into a disturbing dance of avoidance and engagement, affirming that no good deed goes unpunished.
According to Christopher Hudspeth on TUDUM, Gadd explains that “[stalking on television] has a mystique. It’s somebody in a dark alley way. It’s somebody who’s really sexy, who’s very normal, but then they go strange bit by bit. But stalking is a mental illness. I really wanted to show the layers of stalking with a human quality I hadn’t seen on television before. It’s a stalker story turned on its head. It takes a trope and turns it on its head.”
Never once in the series did Gadd’s or any others’ character posit Martha’s potential psychological disorder. Wholly challenging the storytelling status quo, Gadd painted her as chaotic yet human, largely leaving interpretations of interpersonal issues to the audience. Since the emergence of conflict, that same audience held a similar interest to perceived protagonist Donny: escape Martha.
However, fearing confrontation or detachment, Donny continually entertained and reciprocated Martha’s invasive behavior, which began with offering her a consolatory drink on-the-house during their first interaction. This represents his actions as a mirror of the human impulse to reconcile self-preservation and please others (Psychology Today).
“Baby Reindeer” inadvertently turned an additional trope on its head: victimhood. In abuse cases, the victim is commonly assumed to be a woman, as conditioned by a sea of homogenized stories with faceless, nameless female victims. But, when the assault was disclosed from Gadd’s point of view, the masses directed a refreshed attention to him. The double standard in mental illness of either gender also arises—if a man stalks a woman, it is sexualized, implying a pre-existing power dynamic, but if a woman stalks a man, as seen in reactions to “Baby Reindeer,” she is thought to be mentally ill.
Stereotypes about men’s attractions can be harmful when they’re victimized. If they’re assaulted by a man, straight men may face the assumption that they must be gay which, fueled by homophobia, can create an additional barrier to coming forward…Meanwhile, if the perpetrator is a woman, society may dismiss the assault as trivial or even a compliment, as stated by anti-trafficking organization Love146. These attitudes fail to acknowledge the trauma faced by all survivors, regardless of their sexual orientation. “We must start challenging society to respond differently,” they added.
Gadd himself is bisexual, and the increased tension of this fact is reinforced in the aftermath of his comedy mentor Darrien first abusing him. It appeared that, through bungled depictions of queerness, there was an inherent association between this event and Gadd’s subsequent pursuit of his to-be girlfriend Teri, whom he met on a transgender dating site (Glen Weldon). Darrien’s heinous actions reflected a societal attitude toward male victims of assault—particularly queer ones—as expected to comply with their victimization, promoting an agenda of internalized homophobia rather than addressing real issues of abuse.
From Gadd’s perspective, despite the “noise,” the aftermath of “Baby Reindeer” yielded positive results. Outside of the anthology’s critical acclaim, gaining 11 Emmy nominations, “Baby Reindeer” multiplied contributions to stalking and abuse charities, as well as social media testimonies regarding the intentional healing nature of the show, according to Nicholas Barber.
The “noise” likely refers to the less positive results of the series’s initial release. Gadd had well meaning, perhaps underdeveloped, intention to obscure his stalker’s identity out of sympathy for her mental illness, such that the real Martha would not recognize herself upon watching the show. This did not work.
Internet users took no time to unearth the true stalker, Fiona Harvey. As she subjected Gadd to a litany of obsessive texts and emails, Harvey soon faced a litany of death threats, as shared on Piers Morgan’s broadcast show, “Uncensored.” In an inflammatory broadcast interview, Harvey exercised her right of reply, claiming allegations, among others, of her 41,000 emails and 350 hours of voicemails sent to Gadd were complete nonsense (People Magazine).
The backfired outing of Harvey illustrated the critical effects of translating nuanced, subjective occurrences into a one-size-fits-all storyline that necessitates portrayal of a protagonist and an antagonist. The unintended consequence of the public’s investigation and harassment—the very acts that characterized Harvey in the first place—retell the cautionary tale of “Baby Reindeer” on a larger scale. Who’s the mentally unwell stalker now? Every social media conspiracy theory that arose from this Netflix series may illustrate the average viewer as a vehicle for—yet a witness to—the ongoing war between Donny and Martha, and Gadd and Harvey.
Harvey eventually sued. Netflix, facing a similar defamation lawsuit to that of “When They See Us” on the Central Park jogger case, initially protected Gadd’s right to share his story. Harvey spoke out against the declarative, “this is a true story” in the first minute and thirty-six seconds of “Baby Reindeer.” Entertainment attorney Nicole Page predicted that “if the court rejects Netflix’s appeal, the streamer will try to settle the case—agreeing to pay Harvey a lower sum and possibly amend the “true-story” intro to avert a trial.”
Any well-reasoned viewer might assume the worst of Martha’s intentions, and Gadd’s depictions simplify them. It was made abundantly clear that studios were to be conscious of the inherent fallibility of a docudrama. Gadd’s producer claims that “this is a true story,” coupled with a direct legal contradiction to that claim, cannot help but incite the question: what really happened?
“I think life is a comedy-drama,” Gadd says. “Some of the darkest places I’ve been in, I’ve found giggles somehow. And some of the funniest places I’ve been in, including backstage at comedy clubs with other comedians, can be the most depressing places as well. I always think life is a mixture of light and shade” (TUDUM).
Indeed, were Gadd’s narrative choices a holistic middle finger to media depictions of stalkers, but they caused an interminable coverage of the “he said, she said” dynamics of victimhood. Questions regarding how mutual the stalkery was, or the real mental state of either individual, remain unanswered and unresolved. Demonstrated by the scope of knowledge in both opposing accounts of “Baby Reindeer,” perhaps whoever holds a greater memory of a story—and the profound ability to tell it first—will earn the support of millions. Support is exactly what Gadd earned, but at the cost of a large, unambiguous question mark over each viewer’s head, on what we ought to believe.
Perhaps it is best to approach this uncertainty like Gadd; like an aspiring stand-up comedian. “Baby Reindeer” is in no way a means to an end, not reflecting any role Gadd has as an arbiter of truth. But, perhaps he invites the uncertainty. If we accept it, we may treat the light and shade of life with curiosity, perspective, and, God forbid, a little humor.
