LOS ANGELES — Not long after I returned from visiting my daughter in Madrid in April, I logged on to Netflix to see what I had missed while I was overseas. Now, it’s not altogether unusual that a glance at the platform’s “Top 10 TV shows in the U.S. Today” row yields some unfamiliar results. “Too Hot to Handle,” on the list as I write this, is now in its sixth season, and for all I know, it’s a reality series about testing cookware.
Seeing a series titled “Baby Reindeer” at the No. 1 spot piqued my interest. Strange title. Maybe a reality show following a caribou breeder in Alaska? Could be a cute nature program. Who doesn’t want to see a bunch of adorable baby reindeer learning to walk?
The next day, a publicist called.
Have you seen “Baby Reindeer”? No. But I see it’s the No. 1 show on Netflix. I’ll have to check it out.
The next day, the same publicist rang again.
“Did you watch ‘Baby Reindeer’?” Dude. It’s been one night.
The next day, I watched “Baby Reindeer.” And the day after that, I finished watching “Baby Reindeer.” Seven episodes, most of them running about a half-hour. Initially, it looks like a horror story about a stalker hounding Donny, a sad-sack bartender who harbors dreams of becoming a comic. But it quickly becomes deeper and more complex, as Donny’s own behavior becomes erratic, fueled by self-loathing and neediness rooted in shame.