Half Man: A Dreadful Mix of Cringe and Chaos

Rating:

(ZERO STARS) 

previews of Half Man, written by and starring Richard 'Baby Reindeer' Gadd, arrived with a trigger warning: 'These episodes contain very strong and discriminatory language, scenes of violence and underage teen sexual abuse.'

That's a first. The Beeb has never shown undue concern for the delicate sensibilities of journalists before.

When publicists sent out information about the oddly complicated broadcast dates, the warning was repeated. 

This implies execs at Broadcasting House were having belated doubts about this six part series: in their weary efforts to be 'challenging' and 'relevant', have they accidentally commissioned a pile of vile dreck from a writer who didn't deserve his first hit and won't be getting another?

Yes, they have. What the trigger warnings should have said is: 'Half Man consists of rancid schoolboy erotica and repulsive adult masochism, crowbarred into a weak, derivative story, and featuring characters without a single likeable trait.'

Don't feel you have to avoid it for the sake of your mental health, when the first weekly episode lands on iPlayer this Friday, or when BBC1 airs it on Tuesday.

Avoid it because it's utter dross – disjointed, tawdry, numbingly slow, desperate to shock, witless and hateful.

Jamie Bell, once the boy from Billy Elliot, plays a bloke called Niall who, for reasons that don't become clear for far too long, finds himself in a dank barn minutes after getting married. 

Staring him in the face with manic intensity is Gadd himself, with his knuckles bound in rags like a prizefighter.

Niall is wearing a kilt and tie with his hair neatly combed, looking like he shaved hurriedly with an electric razor that morning, which is a bit shoddy on your wedding day.

The nutter opposite him is his lesbian mother's girlfriend's son, Ruben, who is stripped to the waist, covered in prison tattoos, with his head shaved around the ears. 

He looks like Robert de Niro in the remake of Cape Fear, but without the charisma.

Ruben sticks his hand up Niall's kilt, calls him a 'little minx', hugs him, caresses his cheek, and punches him unconscious. 

All this, we gather, is being done for old time's sake, and while Niall isn't exactly enjoying it, he doesn't seem to be in any hurry to get away.

This lasts about four minutes, because nothing is over quickly in Half Man. 

It does give us ample time to see the whole gamut of Gadd's acting repertoire: scowling, and scowling while laughing.

It also provides plenty of time to see his torso, with muscles that didn't happen by accident. 

This I know because the BBC sent another press release with all the fascinating details: 'I worked out six days a week, sometimes twice a day. I had a personal trainer and nutritionist. 

'I even had meals made for me in England that would be sent up [to Scotland] to the exact calorie requirements that was needed. I never veered from it once.'

Next time we meet Niall, he's 17 years old and being bullied at school by a trio who look and behave like Draco Malfoy and his Hogwarts henchmen, except they're really common.

This is the mid-1980s, which means the teacher is sarcastic and everyone eats Heinz tinned spaghetti for tea.

Ruben has just been released from borstal and from now on he'll be sharing Niall's bedroom, and sometimes his bed. 

Niall is conflicted about this because he's terrified but also aroused. If you suspect this storyline has been plagiarised from a gay porn movie, all I can tell you is the press releases don't mention it.

But when Ruben smuggles a prostitute into their room, so he can assist Niall in losing his virginity, there is no longer any question. This is nothing more than a sordid teen sex fantasy from a sordid mind.

That is the point where I started to fast-forward. Having skipped through the last 15 minutes, I can tell you Niall and Ruben smoke dope, and Niall and Ruben walk to school very slowly.

Just to make certain it doesn't get any better, I did look at episode two (Niall goes to uni) and I can say with certainty: it gets worse.

In the spirit of balanced reporting, I ought to add that I loathed Baby Reindeer too. All I could see was one-sided mockery of an obviously damaged and deeply unhappy woman.

The way that it purported to be a true story, when in reality the truth was massaged and moulded, was unforgivable. So was the fact that the woman was so easily identified, which conveniently led to a great deal of publicity.

That show was commissioned by Netflix, a business with no public remit other than to make money. 

The BBC, which is a state-funded broadcaster, commissioned Half Man, and it has failed to ensure the production lives up to the basic standards of decency we are entitled to expect in exchange for our licence fee.

Half Man airs weekly on iPlayer from Friday April 24 and on BBC1 from Tuesday April 28