In a peaceful suburb of Dublin, an individual stands on the pavement, wearing a tank top and sharing his thoughts. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” states Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and now I feel like unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best companion, considers these words. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his bathrobe swaying with the wind. “Superior to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”
For anyone exhausted by the noise and constant stimulation of current streaming landscape, the show steps in similar to a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.
In line with its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode program developed by its authors, adapted from Rónán Hession’s subtle 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; peering disapprovingly through its eyewear on everything that involves unnecessary noise, quick actions or – perish the thought – too much drive. The program is, instead, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration for those happy to wander away from attention. But. The character (one more uniquely quirky turn by the actor) feels restless. He senses an increasing “need to open the openings of my life … a little.” The loss of his parent has pulled the carpet away from his feet and this young man, an anonymous author, now realizes reconsidering the choices that have brought him to where he is (single; sporting facial hair; writing several children’s encyclopedias for a boss who concludes emails saying “ciao for now”).
Therefore Leonard begins an exploration for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the performer) serving as his trusted friend, guide and co-conspirator in a recurring game night that serves both as discussion (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and refuge.
(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The beginning of this name appears lost to the mists of time. It could be that the postal worker previously devoured some food unusually quickly, or responded to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling some food items with his teeth).
Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (the performer), a new energetic colleague who cheerily offers to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine being turned upside down.
Elsewhere during the opening installment of a series focused less on story and more on what a modern audience could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to amaze his adoring wife through his fact recall.
Shepherding viewers amidst this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and truly is – the famous actress. Yes, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “certainly the use of such a famous actor contradicts the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” you're right. However, the actress performs admirably, and phrases like “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts fade if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.
No more criticism for now. The series' spirit is in the right place: the right place being “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, showing its favourite duck.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, at times staring toward the sky, at other times looking at its slippers, serenely certain that there is nothing in the world as cheering as being in the company of close companions.
Throw open the portals of your life, a little, and welcome it inside.
A financial analyst with over a decade of experience in trading and market research, specializing in technical analysis and risk management.