brothers

Candles flickered on long wooden tables beneath a sprawling mulberry tree as Matt French stepped in front of the doorway of his sleek Pioneertown home, holding a drink aloft. Dressed in fitted jeans and a dark western shirt, he welcomed the roughly 60 guests who had assembled in his front yard for the kickoff event of the High Desert Art Fair that would take over the 19-room Pioneertown Motel he owns with his brother Mike.

“We’re super honored to be hosting this event and hosting tonight,” said Matt, addressing a crowd that included local artists, musicians and well-heeled art world types from L.A. “This is the exact kind of event that we want to have in the desert.”

Although the French brothers were not directly involved in the art fair itself, the evening’s itinerary had their fingerprints all over it. Dinner was held in front of the expansive compound they share, and the food — perfectly grilled tri-tip with chimichurri, sourdough bread with cultured butter, flatbread pizzas — was prepared by the owners of the Old Town Public Market, a yet-to-open organic deli and wine bar that would soon occupy another building the brothers own in nearby Yucca Valley. After dessert, the ringing of an old-fashioned triangle bell alerted guests that it was time to cross the road to the Red Dog Saloon, another French brothers business, where Shepard Fairey was already DJing to a packed crowd that spilled onto the rustic porch, the cacophony of laughter, bass and cigarette smoke wafting down the town’s main drag.

It was just another dreamy, highly curated night in the high desert of Matt and Mike French’s making.

Vintage design details abound at the French brothers’ properties, including the Pioneertown Motel.

Few people have had more influence on the modern aesthetic of the sun-drenched desert near Joshua Tree National Park than the two brothers from Portland whose properties regularly pop up in travel publications, Instagram reels and “best of the desert” lists. Since buying the Pioneertown Motel in 2014, Matt, 42, and Mike, 37, have built a portfolio of businesses that tap into the mythology of the California desert — part cowboy, part Rat Pack, part cosmic traveler. Across historic restoration projects like the motel where Gene Autry once played cards all night, the Red Dog Saloon where 1940s film crews unwound after long days of shooting and the Copper Room, a restaurant and bar at the Yucca Valley airport that was a favorite of Gram Parsons, their properties give tourists and locals alike a taste of the desert’s history and glamour all while making it feel like patrons have just stumbled upon these magical spots themselves.

Now, the brothers, along with Eric Cheong, a designer and the third partner in their company Life & Times, are expanding their unique vision to other parts of the desert with two new projects. In late 2026, they will open Lord Fletcher Inn, a 1960s-era steak house in Rancho Mirage where Frank Sinatra occasionally stepped behind the bar. Miracle Hill, the brothers’ colorful take on a geothermal bath house in Desert Hot Springs, is slated to open at the end of 2027.

The French brothers purchased the 1960s-era restaurant Lord Fletcher’s in Rancho Mirage, where Frank Sinatra occasionally tended bar.

Designer Eric Cheong, left, on the porch of the Red Dog Saloon, with Matt and Mike French.

With these two new businesses, as well as an ambitious expansion of the Pioneertown Motel, including an extension of the Western facade of Mane Street that was approved in December, the brothers say they feel a renewed commitment to the desert community where they have lived and worked for more than a decade. Although they toyed with the idea of doing projects in other parts of the country, they ultimately decided that the world they have created in this dry desert landscape is too valuable to leave.

“The lady at the post office has treats for my dog and knows my dog’s name,” Mike said. “You can’t buy your way into community like that. You have to earn it.”

The French brothers’ story may sound like a desert fairy tale, but they insist it wasn’t always that way.

Although they’d been traveling to Palm Springs for family vacations since they were kids, it wasn’t until 2009 that Matt first drove up the rocky mountain pass to Pioneertown and fell in love with the funky desert community originally built in the 1940s as a working film set. After learning that the rundown motel across the street from Pioneertown’s iconic roadhouse and concert venue Pappy & Harriet’s was for sale, Matt, who was working for a boutique hotel company at the time, convinced Mike to join forces with him and buy it. It took five years of starts, stops, heartbreak and nearly giving up before the deal finally went through in 2014.

“Matt was really the driving force,” Mike said. “I was like, this is nuts, but I’m in.”

Those early days were challenging. One of their first orders of business was to evict the previous owner’s weed dealer who had been living in one of the rooms rent-free. The manager at the time was known to yell people off the property. Skilled workers were hard to find, and the desert’s popularity as a tourist destination had not yet ballooned.

Mike and Matt French are setting the stage for their next venture, Miracle Hill, a geothermal bath house in Desert Hot Springs.

“In retrospect it can look very obvious and very, like, ‘Oh, of course, the hotel’s cool and it’s right next to Pappy’s,’” said Matt. “But that is not what it felt like back then.”

The brothers also had to contend with a notoriously fierce local community that was deeply suspicious of the lanky millennials from out of town.

“We had our claws out and our guns cocked,” said David Miller, 81, a longtime local and the president of Friends of Pioneertown. “But it turned out that they are model citizens.”

For two years, the brothers ran the motel remotely while continuing to work other jobs — Matt for a real estate company that did large-scale development in Portland and Mike for a ticketing and events start-up in L.A. In 2017, they decided they needed a home base in town and bought a rundown house with an even more rundown barn a 10-minute walk from the motel. They have since renovated it into two homes just yards from each other with a shared backyard that includes a pool, sauna, cold plunge, hot tub and custom-built hammock that can hold up to 20 people. In 2018, they moved in full time.

A Pioneertown Motel pick-up truck, spotted outside the kitchen window of Matt French’s home.

Two years later, in August 2020, they opened the Red Dog Saloon, a full-scale renovation of the historic bar of the same name that originally opened in 1946. The brothers say they weren’t necessarily looking to open a new business — they just really wanted another place to eat and drink in town besides Pappy & Harriet’s. Their original plan was to create a 16-seat whiskey bar in a small building across from Pioneertown’s picturesque Post Office, but their partners, restaurateurs Adam Weisblatt of Last Word Hospitality who operates Hermon’s and Found Oyster and Eric Alperin from the Varnish, suggested they look at the much larger Red Dog Saloon instead.

“They were like, ‘You can actually make money that way,’” Mike said about the restaurant and bar that can serve as many 1,000 people a day. “And we were like, ‘Yes, that’s a great point.’”

The same team came together again to open the Copper Room, a higher-end, full-service restaurant at the Yucca Valley Airport that opened in 2022 on the site of a dive bar they used to frequent called Wine & Roses.

In 2020, the brothers opened the Red Dog Saloon, a full-scale renovation of the historic bar of the same name that originally opened in 1946.

“At the time we really weren’t sure if Yucca Valley could support that kind of dining experience,” Mike said. “Now we have a $200 tomahawk steak served tableside on the menu and they sell out. There is no way we could imagine that happening when we opened.”

As they did with the motel and the Red Dog, the brothers and Cheong leaned into the history of the space when designing the Copper Room. They kept the curved bar where Gram Parsons drank his last margarita intact but went with a 1950s vibe in the main dining room, with heavy brocade banquets and floral wallpaper, nodding to the restaurant’s opening in 1957.

Cheong said that across each project, he and the French brothers leaned heavily on the space’s unique history for design inspiration.

The vintage-style entrance into Red Dog Saloon.

“We really base it around story and lore,” Cheong said. “The spaces merge together because there is a similar strategy, but it’s not a style. It’s not a color palate. It’s like a feeling of respect and honor, but it’s also our twist on it.”

The brothers’ three businesses were thriving, but in 2023, they found themselves in a lull. “We were having trouble figuring out what to do next,” Matt said. “ We have a very specific criteria of what we want to do and we were like, maybe we look outside of the desert. Maybe things here are plateauing.”

The brothers already had one property outside of the desert — Captain Whidbey, a historic lodge and resort on Whidbey Island in Washington that was named one of the best hotels in the world by Travel + Leisure in 2020 — but ultimately they concluded that the price of leaving Pioneertown to start over somewhere new was too high to pay. They had invested years into building relationships with the high desert’s eclectic community. Somewhere along the way they had also come to feel like chosen family.

The French brothers and Eric Cheong leaned into the history of the space when designing the Copper Room.

“So many things were pulling us in different directions, but life is more personal than business,” Mike said. “So we committed to the desert, which was not just committing to doing business in the desert, but was really committing to living in the desert.”

Since then, more opportunities have opened up. The brothers purchased Lord Fletcher’s in 2025 after a real estate agent happened to mention a 1966-era steak house in Rancho Mirage was for sale. Miracle Hill came about in part because the town of Desert Hot Springs is eager to grow its reputation as a destination for geothermal bathing and offered to help them find a suitable location. For the brothers, it represents the first time they are creating a space from the ground up. Construction has yet to begin, but they have already crafted a story for the space that builds off the community’s early 20th century history and mystical geology.

“The core narrative is that it feels like an eccentric, gregarious host’s home that you are going into,” Mike said. “And the mountain alignment, the sun, the wind, the faults and the geothermal water are the five forces that create a vortex-type energetic field deal. So we’re kind of leaning into that.”

At the same time, Mike revived the community’s historic Pioneertown Gazette, which he originally started printing as an in-room publication but has since expanded to a weekly newsletter that enthusiastically highlights the growing calendar of events happening at several venues across the high desert. And in the next few years, the brothers plan to begin construction on the next phase of the Pioneertown Motel, which will include a swimming pool, restaurant and 47 new rooms.

A game of horseshoes at Pioneertown Motel.

Signage pointing to the Red Dog Saloon.

Pioneertown’s history buffs, and there are many of them, will tell you that the picturesque community has a long history of newcomers showing up with dollar signs in their eyes, hoping to make it big in the desert. But few, if any, have been as successful as the French brothers at making those businesses come to life. It helps that they have a good sense of design and an intuitive understanding of what people want. It also helps that they’ve attracted like-minded people like Jeffrey Baker, the warm and personable general manager at the Copper Room and future general manager of Lord Fletcher’s who excels at management (a self-described weak point for Matt and Mike) and makes everyone he meets feel like an instant friend.

But their true secret sauce might be that aside from the motel, their businesses are designed to cater to the local community at least as much as to tourists.

“People here love these restaurants,” Matt said. “They love the Red Dog, they love the Copper Room, they love the Gazette. So we felt that vibe shift of people being supportive and excited about what we’re doing.”

It also helps that over the last few years, some bad actors have demonstrated what the alternative might look like, with new management at Pappy’s that alienated locals from their longtime watering hole and a wannabe developer who floated much-maligned plans to build a concert venue and a massive glamping complex in Pioneertown. (Both parties have since left the area.)

“I think that has given some people some perspective that having locals do it right, and seeing that we are committed, has really made a difference,” Matt said.

Mike and Matt French walk down Pioneertown’s Mane Street.

It’s been a winning business formula, but if you believe the brothers, there’s more to it than that. Creating spaces where everyone from foreign tourists to drunken bachelorettes to crusty locals to families with young kids feels comfortable and welcomed is all part of the desert ideal they’ve been curating for more than a decade.

Mike said that there’s nothing like seeing Pioneertown old-timers drinking with their buddies at the Red Dog.

“It’s so good,” he said. “And then you find other people who get lit up by the same silly thing, and it’s like, maybe it’s not so silly. Maybe it’s the whole point.”

Indian-administered Kashmir – Rashid Ahmad Mughal was barely six when armed rebels barged into their home in Chunt Waliwar village, in Ganderbal district of Indian-administered Kashmir, on a freezing January night in 2000.

At about midnight, nearly a dozen armed men broke the window by force and entered the Mughals’ home, where six people were asleep – 23-year-old Ishfaq, his 20-year-old sister Naseema, and younger brothers Ajaz, 8, and Rashid, 6, besides their two cousins.

The rebels had come looking for Ishfaq, who, the family admitted, worked for the Indian army, which controls the region.

“He tried to flee,” Naseema recalls, “but they shot him.”

As the family raised an alarm, the rebels took Ishfaq’s body and fled into the dead of the night.

Since then, the Mughal siblings have been hoping for the return of his remains so that they can perform his last rites in accordance with Islamic traditions.

As the siblings waited for more than 26 years for closure on losing Ishfaq, another tragedy hit them last month.

On March 31, Rashid, now 32, was shot dead by the Indian army for being a suspected rebel.

The army said it launched an operation along with the police in the Arahama area of Ganderbal after receiving “specific intelligence input” on the presence of “terrorists”, as Indian authorities and the media describe the rebels.

The army said Rashid was killed during an exchange of fire with the rebels in a forest. But the residents reject the claim, calling it another instance of a “fake encounter” – staged extrajudicial killing of suspects by the Indian forces.

In a further blow to the Mughal family, Rashid’s body was buried 80km (50 miles) away in a graveyard marked for alleged rebels in the frontier town of Kupwara – a practice followed by the army in recent years to prevent the eruption of street protests.

Only Ajaz was allowed by the authorities to attend the funeral.

The Kashmir conflict

The killing of the two brothers over 26 years – one killed by suspected rebels and the other by the army – in many ways encapsulates the tragedy unfolding in Kashmir for decades.

Kashmir is a disputed Himalayan territory divided between nuclear-armed India and Pakistan, but claimed by both in full, with neighbouring China also controlling a sliver of its land. An armed rebellion erupted on the Indian side in the late 1980s. To crush it, New Delhi sent nearly a million soldiers, with the conflict since then killing tens of thousands of people, mostly civilians.

Anti-India sentiments in the Muslim-majority region intensified in 2019 when Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s right-wing government revoked Article 370 of the Indian Constitution, which granted partial autonomy to Kashmir, and brought the region under New Delhi’s direct control by dividing it into two federally-administered territories – Jammu and Kashmir, and Ladakh.

Modi’s government defended the revocation by claiming it would end the armed rebellion and bring lasting peace to the region. However, nearly seven years later, Kashmir continues to remain on the edge, with incidents of suspected rebel attacks, as well as alleged extrajudicial killings, torture and preventive detention of residents continuing to dominate headlines.

The Mughal family belongs to Kashmir’s Gujjar community, a nomadic Muslim tribal group that historically sided with the Indian state. When the armed rebellion broke out in 1989, the forest-dwelling Gujjars were seen as the “eyes and ears” of the Indian forces for sharing intelligence and, at times, assisting troops in operations against the rebels.

Over time, however, this relationship has frayed. Once trusted as a front-line community, the Gujjars and Bakarwals – the two main tribes in the region – now increasingly find themselves under pressure from the very system they once supported.

Since the 2019 abrogation of Kashmir’s special status, at least 11 Gujjars have been killed in suspected extrajudicial encounters, while more than 10 have suffered serious injuries, allegedly due to torture in custody, marking a stark shift in the fortunes of a community once central to India’s security apparatus in the region.

Government policy changes have added to their concerns. Alterations in quotas affected the marginalised community’s access to jobs and education, triggering protests and resentment. They have also faced eviction drives and displacement, with authorities accusing them of illegally occupying forest land and demolishing their seasonal shelters.

‘My brother wasn’t a rebel’

Today, the Gujjars find themselves increasingly vulnerable amid evolving security challenges. Rashid’s killing is seen by the community as part of that pattern.

As soon as the news of the killing spread in Kashmir, hundreds of people hit the streets, rejecting the army’s claims that he was a rebel and demanding an investigation into the March 31 “encounter”.

“I was busy with my work when I received a call from a local police official, saying that my brother had met with an accident and that I should reach the police station immediately,” Rashid’s elder brother, Ajaz Ahmad Mughal, a daily wage worker, told Al Jazeera.

When Ajaz reached the Ganderbal police station, he was taken to another station in Srinagar, some 30km (20 miles) away, where he saw a body lying inside an ambulance.

“The police said your brother was a militant and that he was killed by the army in an encounter,” said Ajaz. “His face was mutilated, apparently to hide his identity. I identified him with his feet.”

Rashid was a commerce graduate – the only one in the impoverished village – and therefore helped the mainly illiterate people in his community in accessing essential government documents.

On the day he was killed, Rashid had left his home with the documents of some people he was helping – like he did every day before returning home by the evening.

“However, this time, he didn’t return and his phone was switched off,” Ajaz recalled.

The next morning, news about the army operation in nearby forests spread in the area. That is when, said Ajaz, people came to know about Rashid’s killing.

“We were absolutely devastated. How did my brother, who was a civilian until the day before, suddenly turn into a militant?” he asked.

Ajaz said the clothes Rashid was found wearing when he saw his body did not belong to his brother, alleging the security forces put the clothes on him after the killing. The family asked why Rashid was never questioned or arrested by the police if he was an armed rebel.

As protests and questions over the killing grew, the New Delhi-appointed governor of the disputed region ordered a magisterial inquiry into the killing. The authorities said a probe will be completed within seven days. It has been nearly a month now, and no inquiry report has yet been published.

Al Jazeera reached out to the army and the regional police for their statements on the family’s allegations, but received no response.

However, a police official, on condition of anonymity since he was not authorised to speak to the media, told Al Jazeera the decision to return Rashid’s body to the family would be taken based on the “nature of the inquiry report” submitted by the magistrate.

The police official also said Rashid had no adverse police records and that he had never been summoned for questioning for any rebellion-related case.

‘Prepared a grave for Rashid’

Even as the government investigates the killing, the Mughal family doubts it will lead anywhere, noting that numerous such probes ordered in Kashmir in the past yielded little or no outcome.

Experts say such probes by magistrates, who are members of the same bureaucracy that governs the region, lead to little or no remedial action.

“The very least that can be done is a time-bound probe by a judicial magistrate answerable to the chief justice of a high court,” Ravi Nair, executive director of the South Asia Human Rights Documentation Centre, told Al Jazeera.

According to data compiled by the Jammu Kashmir Coalition of Civil Society (JKCCS), there were at least 108 cases of rights violations by the Indian forces between 2008 and 2018, where probes were ordered, but no one has been prosecuted to date. JKCCS is now a defunct rights organisation after its founder, Khurram Parvez, was arrested under a stringent anti-terror law in 2023.

In 2018, the Indian government informed the parliament that it received 50 requests from the then-regional government for the prosecution of security forces accused of rights violations. It denied sanction in 47 cases, while the matter is still pending in the remaining three.

Since the onset of the armed rebellion in 1989, between 8,000 and 10,000 people have disappeared in Kashmir, according to the Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons (APDP), which represents the families of the missing.

As of December 2025, government data shows that the region recorded the highest number of arrests under the draconian Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA) for five consecutive years. In 2021, the federal government informed the parliament that as many as 33 custodial deaths took place in Kashmir between 2016 and 2021. The next year, an analysis of data provided by the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) revealed 38 cases of alleged extrajudicial killings in Kashmir – the highest in India that year.

Human rights experts say the 1990 Armed Forces (Jammu and Kashmir) Special Powers Act (AFSPA), a controversial law that provides impunity to the army in Kashmir, acts as a legal shield for the accused members of the security forces.

Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director for Human Rights Watch, told Al Jazeera that despite several cases of extrajudicial killings in Kashmir and families clearly identifying the alleged perpetrators, not much action has been taken by the authorities.

“Unfortunately, there is a culture of impunity that has perpetuated such abuses. The Defence Ministry restricts sanction to prosecute soldiers, while the Home Ministry has shielded paramilitary forces,” she said, demanding a repeal of the AFSPA “and all other laws that provide security forces immunity from prosecution”.

“Justice and accountability are key to lasting peace,” she said.

Praveen Donthi, senior analyst with the International Crisis Group, an international think tank, says India’s 2019 move to revoke Article 370 was aimed at “fully integrating Kashmir into the union and end[ing] separatism and militancy”.

“However, seven years down the line, the situation remains precarious. The conflict is far from resolved, and militancy still has the capacity to ramp up at will,” he said.

“The pressure on security forces to maintain peace and stability may be leading to procedural errors and excesses.”

However, retired Indian army commander, DS Hooda, argues that the army “does not tolerate such incidents and has taken action if they found any wrongdoing by their soldiers”.

“It was an army investigation that revealed that one of the officials was involved, and the accused was punished by the army court,” Hooda said, referring to a staged killing of three civilians dubbed as rebels by the army in Kashmir’s Shopian area in 2020.

The army later acknowledged its soldiers exceeded powers under the AFSPA law and sentenced an accused soldier to life imprisonment. He was later suspended by an armed forces tribunal.

“The army carries out its own investigation. There is no impunity and if they find anything wrong, they take action. This is not an organisation thing.”

But the Mughal siblings say they had never thought a tragedy that struck them 26 years ago would return in such a devastating way, reopening old wounds and leaving them once again searching for answers and closure.

They say their suffering has not ended, with the years only deepening their grief as they wait for the return of the remains of their siblings.

“We have prepared a grave for Rashid. We will bury him in our own graveyard,” says his sister Naseema. “It will feel as though he is close to us.”

Two months after being detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents in South Texas, the Mariachi Brothers will serve as the opening act for country star Kacey Musgraves during a string of shows in the Lone Star State.

Musgraves announced the surprise collaboration with the Gámez-Cuéllar brothers — Antonio, 18, Caleb, 15, and Joshua, 12 — in a Tuesday morning Instagram post. They will open for the “Space Cowboy” singer at the famed Gruene Hall in New Braunfels, Texas, on May 3, 4 and 5.

The brothers were members of McAllen High School’s prestigious Mariachi Oro band, which is one of the most decorated youth mariachi groups in the country. The band has performed in such illustrious venues as New York’s Carnegie Hall and the U.S. Capitol.

The Gámez-Cuéllar family first made news when the brothers and their parents were detained by ICE on Feb. 25 after a routine immigration check-in. The eldest brother was sent to a detention center in Raymondville, Texas, while the rest of the family was sent to Texas’s notorious Dilley Immigration Processing Center.

Department of Homeland Security officials told the Associated Press at the time of the detainment that only their parents, Emma Guadalupe Cuéllar Lopez and Luis Antonio Gámez Martinez, were meant to go into detention — but that they “chose” to take their children with them. DHS also claimed they had illegally entered the U.S. near Brownsville, Texas, in 2023.

In an interview with the New York Times, the family’s patriarch refuted the DHS claim, maintaining that the family had entered the country legally through an asylum claim.

After the family was detained, Democratic Rep. Joaquin Castro of San Antonio posted a video on Instagram denouncing ICE’s actions.

“Donald Trump said he was going after criminals,” Castro said in the social media clip. “[These kids] were safe enough to tour the White House. And yet, the Trump administration has them sitting in a prison.”

Outrage also came from the other side of the political aisle, with Rep. Monica De La Cruz, a Texas Republican, condemning the family’s situation.

“The Gámez-Cuéllar family’s story breaks my heart. South Texans know better than anyone that we can secure our border and still treat people with dignity — these are not competing values,” De La Cruz said in a statement. “I have repeatedly urged that enforcement target those who actually threaten our communities, not good, law-abiding, talented people who are working through the legal process.”

On March 9, all members of the family were released from detention after the mounting public press campaign.

Following their release, Musgraves — a longtime fan of the many musical stylings of Mexico — reposted an article about the brothers being freed with the caption: “Great so come on the road with me.”

The Fitzpatricks missed the cut in last year’s Zurich Classic and finished in a tie for 11th in 2024.

But this victory earns them a cheque worth £1m.

“It was a struggle,” Matt, who won the 2022 US Open, said.

“I was doing zero to help him but he was fantastic on the back nine. I said ‘just give us a chance on the last to hit a bunker shot like that’.”

“It means the world. I’m absolutely speechless, it was a grind today but he was unbelievable and I could not be more proud.”

The event was played over four rounds, with teams of two alternating between fourball (best ball) in the first and third rounds and foursomes (alternate shot) in the second and fourth rounds.

Matt, 31, already had two wins this year, including last week’s RBC Heritage.

Plucked from a previous life as a working actor, Richard Gadd experienced a disorienting whirlwind less than two years ago. “Baby Reindeer,” his painfully personal 2024 Netflix show, based on the sexual assault he survived, instantly opened the floodgates of fame for him.

“The show came out on Thursday, and by Sunday, I could barely walk anywhere without being recognized, without being stopped,” Gadd says while visiting The Times’ offices earlier this month. “That’s an adjustment because I always thought if anything like that ever happened, it would be a bit more of a gradual process. But it was overnight, so I didn’t have time to adjust.”

Now the winner of three Emmy Awards and a slew of other accolades for that series, which he starred in, wrote and served as showrunner, Gadd, 36, has already helmed a new emotionally ferocious show.

Probing the tropes of rigid masculinity, “Half Man,” premiering Thursday on HBO, chronicles the destructive bond between two men over several decades. Niall and Ruben — whose respective mothers are romantic partners — call themselves brothers but they couldn’t be more dissimilar.

Bullied at school, meek Niall (played by Mitchell Robertson in his youth and Jamie Bell in adulthood) lost his father as a young boy. He dreams of being a writer. Meanwhile, the insolent and hyper-confident Ruben (Stuart Campbell as a teen and Gadd as a grown-up) has been in trouble with the law from a tender age. Facing any conflict, he resorts to brutal violence. When Ruben takes Niall under his wing, the two become inseparable. But as the years and resentments pile on, their cancerous brotherhood threatens to obliterate them both.

“Half Man” follows the destructive bond between Ruben (Richard Gadd), left, and Niall (Jamie Bell) over several decades.

(Anne Binckebanck / HBO)

“Richard’s writing is really unique and really singular,” Bell says on a video call from England, where he’s currently shooting the “Peaky Blinders” sequel series and is sporting a shorter haircut. “He identifies that real gray area of humanity really well and he puts a voice to the most uncomfortable places that we go into or things that we think when we’re alone in the dark, when we think no one’s watching.”

Gadd wrote the first episode of what would become “Half Man” back in 2019, while he still was performing the live version of “Baby Reindeer,” which he turned into the series. At the time, he recalls, society at large was seriously engaging in conversations around toxic masculinity and sexual violence as the #MeToo movement gained strength.

“It wasn’t necessarily that I set out going, ‘Oh, I want to make a show about that,’” Gadd says. “It was more that something must have just drifted into my head thinking, ‘You take two men repressed in their current life, repressed in the modern world. And then you go all the way back to their childhood. You contextualize learned behavior; you contextualize trauma and things they learned that make them these repressed adults. And you bring a bit of context to, I suppose, difficult male behavior in the present.’”

As “Baby Reindeer” launched his career as a creator, Gadd put “Half Man” on ice for four years but couldn’t stop thinking about returning to it. “Even as I was coming to the end of ‘Baby Reindeer,’ I thought, ‘I’m really looking forward to getting back to that project,” he recalls. “The second ‘Baby Reindeer’ finished, I thought, ‘This is what I’m going to do now.’”

Sitting across from the mild-mannered Gadd, the magnitude of his transformation on screen for “Half Man” becomes even more impressive. Gadd comes off as thoughtful and emphatic, while Ruben, his physically imposing character, commands trepidation.

“The second ‘Baby Reindeer’ finished, I thought, ‘This is what I’m going to do now,’” Gadd says about working on “Half Man.”

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

Watching Gadd as the rage-fueled Ruben, one might be surprised to learn he originally had no intention of acting in “Half Man.” After wearing multiple hats on “Baby Reindeer,” Gadd thought this time around he could get a purely external bird’s-eye view of a project as showrunner and writer of “Half Man.” But eventually people around him suggested he should be in front of the camera once again.

“My initial response was always, ‘That’s just so far away from anything I’ve done before. It’s so far away from me. Are people going to buy it?’” he recalls. “And behind every single fear-based thought was a worry of what people might think, which in my opinion, isn’t a good enough reason to not do something.”

Convinced audiences would struggle to see the guy from “Baby Reindeer” as this “hard man,” a U.K. term for tough and intimidating men, he had to physically morph. To inhabit a new body, Gadd underwent a strict exercise regimen, and most importantly, a new diet.

“I had a chef make these meals in England, fun enough, and send them up to Scotland where I was filming,” he recalls. “I’d eat them at specific times. You go through periods of fasting and through dehydration whenever you had your top off. There was a real science to it.”

And yet, though he at first worried he wouldn’t look big enough, Gadd refused to portray Ruben with a chiseled physique conceived for mere aesthetics.

“I didn’t want him to have a six pack, I wanted him to feel like a real person,” Gadd says. “Sometimes when you see someone on TV and they’re ripped, I almost don’t think that’s real strength. Someone like Ruben, they wear their life in their body, they’re heavy set. It’s not ripped. It’s bulky. It’s natural to him.”

Before he agreed to play the character, Gadd auditioned numerous actors for the part, but with all of them he felt they were too focused on his appearance as an imposing figure and not his inner turmoil. “Ruben is extremely sad as a person. He’s terribly broken and traumatized,” he says.

For the series, Gadd bulked up to become more physically imposing: “Someone like Ruben, they wear their life in their body, they’re heavy set. It’s not ripped. It’s bulky. It’s natural to him.” Richard Gadd in “Half Man.” (Anne Binckebanck / HBO)

When asked if he sees himself as Ruben, Gadd contemplates the question, debating whether it’s his “jetlagged brain” or ambivalence about finding some of Ruben within him.

“Do I see myself in Ruben?” After a pause, he concedes: “All of his behavior is a reaction to a deep traumatic happening in his life. I can relate to finding it extremely difficult to get past big traumatic events and coming to terms with them and coming to terms with yourself even as a result of them.”

With less hesitation, Bell, 40, acknowledges that he finds a certain kinship with his character. As a teenager, Bell flocked to people with a defiant edge. “I grew up without a father in an all-female household and I felt very naked as a child in terms of needing to be protected by someone who was dominant and aggressive,” he says. “I totally understand why Niall seeks solace in someone like him. No one will touch Ruben. There is a safety in that.”

Gadd says he doesn’t think about celebrities when searching for the actors. “I’m quite fame-averse when it comes to casting because I think sometimes it can get in the way,” he explains. “You can have a show, which starts up with all the best intentions, turn into a sort of acting vehicle for someone, or the discussion becomes about the actor doing this role.”

That said, when the casting director on “Half Man” asked him about his “dream cast,” Gadd expressed Bell was the only one who would genuinely excite him. But could that happen? “In my head, I was still in pre-‘Baby Reindeer’ time where I thought, ‘Well, somebody like him is not going to be interested.’ And then I thought, ‘Well, he might be,’” Gadd says.

For his part, Bell found the “nihilism” in Niall, a man desperately running from his true self and living in Ruben’s shadow, an enticing and complex character to play. “[Niall] conceals himself in many different ways, and has a lot of self-loathing, but at the same time has all these ambitions and actually is incredibly egotistical and thinks that his way is the correct way, and that other people don’t understand that he is terminally unique,” Bell explains with a chuckle.

Bell, who plays Niall, says his character “conceals himself in many different ways, and has a lot of self-loathing, but at the same time has all these ambitions and actually is incredibly egotistical …”

(Anne Binckebanck / HBO)

Aside from a tight schedule to produce “Half Man,” the challenge for Bell was adjusting to the dramatic intensity that Gadd was after. “I wasn’t particularly prepared for that, therefore sometimes my reading of certain scenes I’d get wrong. We’d start scenes and Richard was like, ‘You are pitching it at like a six, and this is very much an 11,’” Bell recalls laughing. I was like, ‘Oh, OK.’ That took some modulating.”

In Gadd’s mind, Bell remains an “underrated” artist. A proud Scotsman, Gadd recalls loving Bell in the 2007 romantic dramedy “Hallam Foe,” where the British actor played Scottish. For “Half Man,” Gadd thought Bell could convey the pain that haunts Niall, even as his actions paint him less like Ruben’s victim and more like a vengeful participant in the chaos.

“There’s always something I find so vulnerable about Jamie and I knew that I was going to take Niall in some really big journeys where he was going to almost test the audience’s love for him,” Gadd says. That Niall finds Ruben so alluring is natural to Gadd, who believes the notion of a valiant male figure has been bred into everyone via fables and fairy tales.

Gadd adds that whether or not we like to admit it, we’re drawn to alpha male characters. “Because from an early age, we’ve been told they are always at the top of the social hierarchy. And as a result, we’ve always, as a society, answered to those kinds of people as some sort of leaders.”

And though he says he’s unfamiliar with the “manosphere,” the misogynistic and chauvinistic online community, Gadd doesn’t believe Ruben would fall for the gurus in those circles who claim to have the answers for young guys to become “real men.”

“Ruben carved his own masculinity. To give him credit, if that’s even something you can give him, those spaces wouldn’t hold any weight for him. He’s his own man,” Gad says. “He would never follow anyone on social media. He’s the person to be followed.”

Based on the tone of Gadd’s output thus far, it may come as a surprise that as a young person he dreamed of creating a show along the lines of the U.K.’s “The Office,” which he considers a “perfect piece of art.” The stories he is telling now better reflect his “neuroses” and the experiences he’s endured.

“My life just took a very dramatic turn, and my sensibilities weren’t workplace sitcoms anymore. When I grew up and I was doing comedy I thought, ‘I’ll write a sitcom one day and every character will be sort of funny in it,’” he says. “But my life just took a turn to the point where I needed my writing and my art darkened because what I went through was very dark.”

Humor is not entirely absent from “Half Man,” some of the characters’ reactions to their distressing realities earn a chuckle. Still, Gadd’s funny bone might also find an outlet in other people’s narratives. He was recently announced as part of the cast in Apple TV’s upcoming high-concept series “Husbands,” for which he already shot his scenes. Adapted from a bestselling novel of the same name, it stars Juno Temple as a woman who gets to experience life with a different partner every time she changes the light bulb in her attic.

“I’m very picky with stuff I take on. Because I love writing my own work so much, anything that takes me out on someone else’s show has to be very special. And this was very special,” Gadd says.

“Everything I do doesn’t have to be dark,” he adds with a soft smile.

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