🔗 Share this article

In a quiet area of the Irish capital, a man can be found in his driveway, sporting a tank top and expressing his thoughts. “It seems like myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” remarks the main character, staring up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently I believe if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his only companion, ponders this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his robe swaying with the wind. “Better than striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”

For viewers tired by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of current streaming terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul comes as a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

Like its gentle leads, the series – a six-episode program created by the writing duo, based on the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – casts a critical eye toward today's world; gazing skeptically above its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. This show is, instead, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to wander below the parapet. But. Leonard (one more uniquely quirky turn by the actor) is unsettled. He notices a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways within my world … a little.” The loss of his mother has pulled the carpet from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now finds himself questioning the choices that directed him to where he is (alone; defensively moustached; creating several educational volumes for an employer who signs off correspondence using the words “see you later”).

Thus Leonard starts on a journey for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) serving as his trusted friend, guide and ally during their regular gaming session which acts as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The origin of the moniker seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker previously devoured a snack in record time, or reacted to a tense moment by panic-peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels a vibrant character (the performer), a new energetic associate who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the initial show of a series driven less by plot and centered around what younger viewers could describe as “mood”, we meet Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the actor), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to amaze his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Leading viewers throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the star. In case you're considering, “certainly the use of such a famous actor is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as an interruption?” that's accurate. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue such as “Leonard’s problem is the missing a look of sudden insight” help ensure that initial doubts fade if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism currently. The show's core is well-intentioned: the right place being “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its preferred bird.” It’s a series that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, occasionally down at its feet, serenely certain that no experience is in the world as uplifting as spending time with close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, a little, and allow it entry.