Half Man: Richard Gadd's Follow-Up to Baby Reindeer is Uncomfortably Erotic and Utterly Monstrous
Richard Gadd and Jamie Bell deliver performances so frank they border on feral in a new television show so violent it might leave viewers feeling they can taste blood. This man has a unique ability to strike a nerve like no other creator in the industry.
The Birth of a Monster in Television Drama
Part of the thrill of Baby Reindeer was witnessing the emergence of a monster on screen. Comedians typically debut in scripted dramas by gently basing characters on themselves, poking at personal flaws without causing real damage. However, Richard Gadd incinerated that safety net by dramatising his own experience of being stalked, along with other darker moments of victimhood, with a transgressive honesty.
On screen and in reality, the helpless Gadd was pursued relentlessly by his unhinged admirer Martha, portrayed by Jessica Gunning, much like a horror movie fiend. Once Baby Reindeer gained explosive word-of-mouth popularity and Gadd won major awards for portraying himself at his most vulnerable, his success catapulted him to become one of television's most powerful creators. That queasy disconnect proved utterly fascinating, making the prospect of a new Richard Gadd show both exciting and a bit frightening.
Half Man: A Psychological Dive into Monstrosity
Psychologically, the six-part BBC iPlayer drama Half Man, available from Friday, is immediately intriguing. It revolves around a terrifying black hole of a person ruining the life of someone who shows weakness. This time, writer-creator Gadd has cast himself not as the target but as the monster. Muscled up beyond recognition and sporting a straggly beard with a brutal bowl-cut—a combination bizarre enough to evoke horror icons like Leatherface or Michael Myers—Gadd's new alter ego is all id. He embodies vengeance, pure and raw.
The Story of Niall and Ruben: A Painful Symbiosis
Set on the outskirts of Glasgow in the 1980s, Half Man tells the story of two "brothers," Niall and Ruben. They are not blood relatives, but when Niall's widowed mother starts a relationship with Ruben's divorced mother and invites her to move in, Niall must share his teenage bedroom with Ruben, who is two years older. This arrangement begins once Ruben is released from a young offenders' institution, where he was sent for biting a man's nose off.
For weedy, nervous Niall, played by Mitchell Robertson, raging psychopath Ruben, portrayed by Stuart Campbell, represents a devil's bargain. The strong big brother deals comprehensively with the bullies who have ruined Niall's schooldays. In the first of many scenes where Gadd dares viewers to keep watching against their instincts to look away, Ruben directly assists Niall in losing his virginity. In return, Niall helps Ruben cheat in his exams and offers him the kindness no one else ever has.
The two become locked in a painful symbiosis from that point onward, an uncomfortably eroticised headlock of a relationship that Niall does not consent to but simultaneously cannot live without. An opening flash-forward reveals adult Niall, played by Jamie Bell, surprised and shaken by Ruben, played by Gadd, showing up at his wedding. Niall is in his jacket and kilt, while Ruben is stripped to the waist, and they are alone in a barn away from the other guests. Not for the last time, Half Man delivers violence so vivid it feels tangible.
Exploring Broken Masculinity and Shame
With the guide rails of portraying real events removed and female characters mostly relegated to unheeded voices of reason, Gadd's preoccupation with broken masculinity runs riot. It veers close to pornography, where past trauma does not just explain men's self-destructive behaviour but makes it inevitable, to the point where their maddening choices become dramatically difficult to accept.
Meanwhile, Gadd's interest in shame as a driver of male misery mixes uneasily with his inability to resist making sex as shocking as the violence. As Niall struggles with his own desires, he rarely has the chance to explore them in a way that isn't extreme. The dialogue is unsparing, with several epic two-handers in which Bell and Gadd give spectacular performances so frank they're almost feral, analysing both characters to death. Yet, when Gadd hits a nerve, he strikes it harder than any other television auteur.
The Future of Richard Gadd's Dramatic Endeavours
One wonders where Gadd goes from here. Can he create a third drama on the same themes, even more compellingly horrible than the first two? That would surely be a bad idea, but it's probably not something anyone would say to his face.
