In a peaceful area of the Irish capital, a person stands in his driveway, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his feelings. “I notice myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” says the protagonist, looking toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and now it seems unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his closest confidant, ponders the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his robe flapping with the wind. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”
For viewers weary by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of modern television offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in similar to a foil blanket and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.
Like its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-part program created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by Rónán Hession’s subtle story – looks disapprovingly at modern life; looking critically above its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything in the way of disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. The series on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute of those content to wander away from attention. However. Leonard (a further sublimely idiosyncratic turn from the star) is unsettled. He feels an increasing “need to open the entryways within my world … slightly.” The loss of his mother has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, a writer for others, now feels questioning the paths which led him to his current situation (unattached; defensively moustached; working on several kids' reference books for a man who signs off messages using the words “ciao for now”).
Thus Leonard begins on a journey for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (the performer) serving as his confidante, life coach and ally in a weekly gaming session that serves both as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.
(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The source of the nickname appears lost in mystery. It could be that he previously devoured a snack very fast, or answered to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening some food items by biting into them).
Entering Leonard's quiet life comes Shelley (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a new energetic co-worker who happily suggests to eliminate the awful manager (the actor) during the office fire drill. The swift movement noticeable represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.
Elsewhere in the first episode of this program not heavily plotted and more on what a modern audience could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the performer), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to impress his adoring wife using his trivia skills.
Leading us amidst this subtle warmth there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the star. In case you're considering, “undoubtedly the presence of such a famous actor clashes with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and phrases for example “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that initial doubts fade if not quite to appreciation, then certainly understanding.
But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The series' spirit has good intentions: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” It’s a series that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up toward the sky, sometimes downward toward the ground, quietly confident that there is nothing in the world as cheering as passing time in the company of dear pals.
Unlock the entryways of your life, just a bit, and allow it entry.
