In a calm area of the Irish capital, an individual can be found outside his home, sporting a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “I notice myself getting quieter. More invisible,” says the protagonist, gazing up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I believe unless I take action, I will continue in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his only confidant, considers this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his robe moving gently. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”
For viewers exhausted by the chaos and fast pace of modern television terrain, the show steps in as a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.
Like its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment show developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the novelist’s understated book – takes a dim view at modern life; gazing disapprovingly above its spectacles on everything that involves unnecessary noise, quick actions or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. The program on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute of those content to wander away from attention. But. He (a further distinctly original turn from the star) feels restless. He senses an increasing “need to open the openings in my existence … just a bit.” The loss of his mother has pulled the carpet out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes doubting the choices that directed him to this point (single; defensively moustached; writing a range of kids' reference books for a man who ends emails using the words “see you later”).
And so Leonard starts an exploration for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) acting as his close companion, guide and co-conspirator in a weekly game night functioning as both discussion (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and safe space.
(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of this name is shrouded in mystery. Perhaps he previously devoured some food in record time, or answered to an awkward situation by hastily opening some food items by biting into them).
Entering Leonard's quiet life comes Shelley (the performer), a new spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) at a fire practice. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.
Elsewhere during the opening installment of a series focused less on story and centered around what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the actor), a tired character who privately views, saves and reviews television game programs to impress his adoring wife with his general knowledge.
Leading us through all this subtle warmth is a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the star. In case you're considering, “surely the inclusion of such a famous actor clashes with the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as a distraction?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts does a good job, and lines like “The issue with Leonard is his absence of a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that initial doubts give way though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.
Enough complaining for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is well-intentioned: that place is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its preferred bird.” The program that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up toward the sky, occasionally down at its feet, quietly confident that no experience is in the world as uplifting as passing time in the company of good friends.
Unlock the entryways of your life, a little, and allow it entry.
A seasoned casino analyst with over a decade of experience in online gambling, specializing in slot machine reviews and player strategy.
