🔗 Share this article

In a peaceful area of the city, an individual stands on the pavement, sporting a vest and voicing his feelings. “I feel myself getting quieter. More invisible,” remarks the main character, looking toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and currently I feel like if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” Paul, his closest confidant, ponders these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his bathrobe moving in the breeze. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For those tired by the bluster and fast pace of today’s TV landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in similar to a foil blanket with a hot drink of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its gentle leads, the series – a six-part show developed by its authors, based on Rónán Hession’s quiet 2019 novel – takes a dim view at modern life; gazing critically through its spectacles on everything related to unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The series rather, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage of those happy to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (one more distinctly original performance from Alex Lawther) feels restless. He senses a growing “desire to unlock the entryways in my existence … a little.” The recent death of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes reconsidering the decisions which led him to his current situation (unattached; with a protective mustache; creating a range of educational volumes for a man who concludes messages using the words “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard begins himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the performer) functioning as his trusted friend, mentor and ally in a weekly game night functioning as both discussion (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of the nickname seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps he previously devoured a snack in record time, or answered to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a vibrant character (the actress), a recent spring-loaded associate who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound you can hear represents Leonard's calm life undergoing a shake-up.

In another part in the first episode of this program driven less by plot and more on what the under-30s could describe as “vibes”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to dazzle his devoted partner using his trivia skills.

Guiding us amidst this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Truly, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “surely the use of such a famous actor is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a diversion?” you would be correct. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and lines such as “The issue with Leonard is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that first reservations yield if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, indicating its preferred bird.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is on Earth as heartening as spending time in the company of good friends.

Open the doors and windows within your world, just a bit, and let it in.