In a peaceful area of Dublin, a person can be found on the pavement, wearing a vest and voicing his concerns. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” states the main character, staring toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and now it seems without a change, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best companion, considers these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his robe flapping in the breeze. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”
For anyone exhausted by the chaos and rat-tat-tat of modern television landscape, this series arrives as a warm cover and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.
Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a six-episode comedy created by the writing duo, inspired by the author’s subtle story – looks disapprovingly at modern life; peering skeptically over its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything in the way of unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The program on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage for those satisfied to amble along away from attention. And yet. He (one more distinctly original portrayal from the star) is uneasy. He feels an increasing “need to open the doors and windows of my life … slightly.” The recent death of his parent has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, a ghost writer, now realizes doubting the choices which led him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; creating multiple educational volumes for a man who concludes correspondence saying “goodbye for now”).
And so Leonard begins himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) serving as his trusted friend, guide and partner during their regular gaming session that serves both as symposium (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and refuge.
(How did Paul get his nickname? No idea. The beginning of the moniker appears lost to the mists of time. It could be that Paul once ate a snack very fast, or answered to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs by biting into them).
Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a new colleague (the actress), a recent lively co-worker who happily suggests to eliminate the awful manager (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.
Elsewhere during the opening installment of a series not heavily plotted and more by what younger viewers could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the performer), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays television game programs to impress his loving spouse using his trivia skills.
Guiding the audience amidst this gentle kindness there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and truly is – the famous actress. Yes, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “surely the presence of a big-name celebrity contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as a diversion?” you're right. Still, Roberts does a good job, and lines such as “Leonard’s problem is his absence of a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings give way though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.
Enough complaining at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: that place is “located on a seat alongside similar shows, pointing out the duck it loves.” The program that moves gently in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, sometimes downward at its slippers, serenely certain that no experience is on Earth as uplifting as passing time alongside close companions.
Unlock the entryways of your life, a little, and let it in.
