In a calm suburb of the Irish capital, an individual stands in his driveway, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and expressing his concerns. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” remarks the protagonist, looking toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and currently I believe unless I take action, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, reflects on this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his bathrobe moving with the wind. “Better than striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”
For those weary by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in similar to a warm cover and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.
In line with its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part comedy written by the writing duo, inspired by Rónán Hession’s understated story – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything in the way of unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. This show is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration of those content to amble along out of the spotlight. But. The character (one more uniquely quirky performance by the actor) is unsettled. He senses an increasing “desire to unlock the doors and windows of my life … a little.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now finds himself doubting the paths that have brought him to where he is (single; sporting facial hair; working on multiple kids' reference books for a boss who signs off emails saying “see you later”).
And so Leonard starts an exploration to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (the performer) serving as his close companion, guide and co-conspirator in a recurring game night that serves both as symposium (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and refuge.
(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The source of the moniker appears lost in mystery. It could be that he once ate a snack in record time, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling several snacks with his teeth).
Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (the actress), a recent energetic associate who cheerily offers to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.
In other scenes in the initial show of this program focused less on story and centered around what younger viewers might call “vibes”, viewers encounter the older generation (the ever-wonderful Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to impress his adoring wife with his general knowledge.
Shepherding us throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the famous actress. Truly, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a distraction?” you would be correct. Still, Roberts does a good job, and lines such as “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings fade if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.
Enough complaining at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: which is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its favourite duck.” It’s a series that moves gently in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up into space, at other times looking toward the ground, serenely certain that no experience is on Earth as cheering as spending time with dear pals.
Throw open the portals of your life, slightly, and allow it entry.
A seasoned slot gaming analyst with over a decade of experience in casino entertainment and strategy development.