Once again, Netflix goes out on a limb to reach beyond the predictable feelgood fair so many want - and possibly need - in dawn of dystopian age we find ourselves living in. Baby Reindeer is tagged as a dark comedy, and there are certainly comic aspects to it, but it is steeped - almost mired - in tragedy that already I'm hearing as misunderstood by viewers dismissing it as "unfunny." describing the tragic protagonist as "self absorbed" and "lazy." I found Donny neither of these, but rather twisted with self-hatred and crippled by indecisiveness. We sense his desire to be wanted and loved, fully aware aware that in his eyes he is unworthy of either. As Donny, Richard Gadd's Donny gives among of the most harrowing, frustrating and ultimately heartbreaking performances I've seen this year. Lanky and raw, his eyes, mouth and jaw move constantly from a place of fear that is set across his scraggly bearded, hollow face, both handsome and homely. Every thought, every emotion plays across his mask in direct opposition of the poker face he imagines hides the true Donny. The pathetic journey of this failing and flailing comic becomes painful to witness - almost unbearable at times, but that is the point isn't it? To show what real suffering is, to reveal that complete inability to move forward because one is held back by fear and hatred. This level of self-loathing is addictive and isn't meant to be pretty or funny. It isn't. It cannot be. It's made manifest through the jokes that die before they're emitted from his lips, from the juvenile props that fail to offer any comic relief from the torment. And yet, he goes on, confusing the familiar humiliation of his life as a kind of comfort. I grew frustrated to the point of anger with Donny, thinking "there are easy fixes, mate . . . Just buck up, be honest be . . ." before realizing how many years I spent telling myself those same things. How frequently my looking in the mirror, telling myself "it's an easy fix, mate," when the reality was not only wasn't it not easy, there are times where there seemed to be no fix at all. Ever. Gadd captures this paralyzing inability with such poignancy I more than once found myself unable to hold back tears. At long last comes the moment of self-confrontation one sensed had to happen to make this all work. Without knowing Mr. Gadd, all I can say is, he brings us to that place where actor and character fuse into a oneness, something so beautifully raw, so abraded that can only be seen as a revelation, a catharsis. Yes, it's acting, masterful even, but it feels is more than that as well. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't want to know. On the opposite side of that same coin is the chilling, harrowingly raw portrayal of Martha by Jessica Gunning. It is incredibly easy to dislike a creature such as Martha . . . Manipulative, foul, deceitful, and wonder why Donny allows himself to be torturously abused by her at every turn. But we know why don't we? First and foremost, he pities her but it's more than that. He, unwittingly at first recognizes that, beneath the surface, Martha is the same emotional ticking time bomb as he. Gunning brilliantly uses her face to convey elation, naughtiness, rage, pain and emotional blankness with an ease of facility equal to Gadd's Donny. Indeed, the two make an uncomfortably powerful match in Baby Reindeer. Time prevents me from going on, but I must at least in passing say that , Nava Mau, Nina Sosanya, Tom Goodman-Hill, Shalom Brune-Franklin, all give sensational performances in supporting roles that contribute to and flesh out this dark, powerful story. One of Netflix best in several years..

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