Richard Gadd's highly anticipated follow-up to his breakthrough Netflix drama Baby Reindeer has arrived, but critics are calling Half Man a brutal and ultimately pointless misfire. The new six-part BBC series, produced in collaboration with HBO, features Gadd and Jamie Bell as dysfunctional step-brothers whose toxic relationship forms the core of a drama struggling to find meaning.
Star-Crossed Brothers in Toxic Dynamic
The series introduces viewers to Ruben, played by Richard Gadd himself as a bearded biker with what characters describe as "blackness in him," and Niall Kennedy, portrayed by Jamie Bell as a nervous man grappling with his sexuality. These makeshift step-brothers, brought together when their parents became partners, share a bond forged in childhood trauma and perpetuated through cycles of violence and reconciliation.
"My brother from another lover" becomes the recurring refrain throughout the series, capturing the twisted nature of their connection. As one character observes when the pair arrive at university together, "It's like one needs a head and the other needs a body." Rather than complementing each other to form a functional whole, their relationship instead descends into new depths of dysfunctionality.
The Challenge of Following Baby Reindeer
Gadd finds himself in the difficult position many breakout artists face: how to follow a critically acclaimed, intensely personal project like Baby Reindeer. That Netflix drama, which fictionalized Gadd's own experiences with a stalker, earned widespread praise for its unflinching examination of trauma and abuse.
With Half Man, Gadd appears caught between repeating a successful formula and pushing into completely new territory. The result, according to critics, is a show that feels uncertain of its purpose—a plot searching for a meaningful story rather than a narrative with clear direction or emotional resonance.
Deeply Unlikable Characters Strain Viewer Sympathy
One of the most significant criticisms leveled against Half Man concerns its central characters, who prove exceptionally difficult to empathize with. Ruben embodies what one character describes as a "tendency that draws him to violence and abuse," while Niall emerges as what critics call a "slippy coward" hiding behind his stepbrother's dark charisma.
Even the supporting characters fail to provide much relief or moral grounding. Ruben's wife Mona comes across as fundamentally selfish, while Niall's mother Lori strains credibility as his straight-talking protector. Her parenting advice includes telling her aspiring author son that "one of the most lethal acts of self-harm you can commit is convincing yourself you're worthy of a higher purpose."
From Personal Pathos to Cartoonish Exaggeration
Where Baby Reindeer managed to elicit genuine sympathy for both victim and perpetrator through nuanced character development, Half Man leans toward cartoonish exaggeration. Characters speak in what critics describe as overwritten soundbites, with declarations like "You may be the painter Niall, but I'm the rolling hills!" punctuating a narrative that rambles across multiple decades.
The series has been compared to the dark, misanthropic novels Martin Amis produced to great acclaim in the 1980s, but critics argue this sensibility struggles to translate effectively into a six-hour television drama. While Jamie Bell delivers what reviewers call a committed performance, and Gadd writes himself a character with seemingly limitless sexual charisma (frequently appearing shirtless), the overall effect feels hollow and ultimately pointless.
A Calculated Attempt at Importance?
Beneath the surface, some critics detect what might be interpreted as a streak of nihilism running through Half Man. Neither Niall nor Ruben can escape their childhood traumas or the consequences of their actions and inactions. Their doom-laden trajectory appears predetermined, as if "written in the stars" as the series suggests.
Yet even this charitable interpretation cannot escape the nagging suspicion that Gadd's sophomore television project represents a calculated attempt to create something brave, startling, and important—all adjectives that were applied more authentically to Baby Reindeer. The result, according to early reviews, is a significant creative misstep that fails to justify its brutality or find meaningful purpose in its characters' suffering.
As Richard Gadd's follow-up to his breakthrough success, Half Man stands as a stark reminder of how difficult second acts can be in television drama, particularly when attempting to capture the lightning-in-a-bottle success of a deeply personal project like Baby Reindeer.
