It would be hypocritical of me not to recommend Half Man because for all six episodes, I felt deeply uncomfortable. As of the writing of this review, my favorite film of 2026 is Blue Film, another project that made me feel deeply uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is about 2026 and this sudden excellence in making audiences squirm, but it seems to be a trend because Half Man is a weirdly exceptional series that I genuinely never want to watch again. That’s not a criticism.
It’s also a difficult show to recommend because it is so bleak, so disturbing, and, yes, so uncomfortable. I know I’m going to overuse that word, but it’s probably the most accurate way to describe what Richard Gadd has created here. People often hear “uncomfortable” and assume that’s automatically a negative. It isn’t. Sometimes discomfort is the point. Sometimes art forces us to confront realities we’d rather avoid, tragedies we’d rather not think about, or truths we’d rather not acknowledge. Most projects give us those moments in small doses. Half Man practically builds a home there and invites us to stay for six episodes, and somehow, it works.
After Baby Reindeer, I wasn’t convinced Richard Gadd could strike lightning twice. Turns out he absolutely can. At this point, whatever project he tackles next will probably be troubling in some way because that seems to be where his creative instincts live. Gadd feels like someone actively working through some heavy stuff, and because he’s such a gifted storyteller, the things he sends out into the world end up being compelling, insightful, and frequently disturbing.
Half Man centers on two half-brothers, Niall and Ruben, played in adulthood by Jamie Bell and Richard Gadd. Through flashbacks and present-day storytelling, we watch their relationship evolve over the years. Ruben is a walking time bomb for most of the series. He always seems one bad interaction away from exploding. He’s constantly looking for something to fight, argue about, yell at, punch, or kick. Everything about him feels tightly wound.
Niall, by contrast, is quieter and more reserved. He’s the introvert to Ruben’s chaos. Yet he’s also drawn to his brother in ways that feel painfully understandable. There’s something captivating about people who move through life with reckless abandon. Even when they’re making terrible decisions, they seem fearless. Niall spends much of the series caught in Ruben’s orbit, suffering the consequences of his brother’s choices while still being unable to fully pull away.
The series tackles an enormous amount of dark subject matter, and trying to unpack every theme would require far more space than I want to give it here. What I will say is that Half Man consistently surprised me. Every time I thought I understood where it was going, it found another way to make me uneasy. That won’t work for everyone.
The show has already received significant critical praise and feels destined for awards attention, but I do wonder whether something this bleak and polarizing can actually win some of those major categories. Regardless, I don’t regret spending six episodes with it. I enjoy being challenged by art, and I’d much rather watch something that makes me uncomfortable than sit through another series that feels like a collection of things I’ve already seen before.
Half Man feels unlike anything else I’ve watched. Honestly, that’s probably a good thing. If television were full of shows like this, nobody would want to watch television anymore. We’d all be too emotionally exhausted.
I recommend Half Man with caution. The performances are excellent, the writing is superb, and Richard Gadd once again proves himself to be one of the most fascinating creative voices working today. At the same time, this is a dark, disturbing series that simply won’t be for everyone. And that’s okay. Not everything has to be for everyone. Sometimes art just needs to be exactly what it is in order to find the audience that will understand it. Half Man knows exactly what it wants to say, exactly how it wants to say it, and for the viewers willing to meet it on its level, it’s an unforgettable experience.
Fresh: 8.3/10
