In a quiet suburb of the city, an individual stands in his driveway, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and expressing his feelings. “I notice my voice is fading. More invisible,” states the protagonist, looking up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently I feel like if I don’t do something, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his only confidant, reflects on these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his bathrobe swaying in the breeze. “Preferable to striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”
For those exhausted by the chaos and constant stimulation of modern television offerings, the show arrives as a warm cover with a hot drink of a sweet cordial.
In line with its gentle leads, this comedy – a half-dozen installment comedy written by its authors, inspired by the author’s quiet book – casts a critical eye on contemporary society; gazing skeptically above its eyewear on everything in the way of unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The program rather, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration for those satisfied to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (one more distinctly original portrayal from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He feels a growing “need to open the openings within my world … a little.” The passing of his mother has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes questioning the paths which led him to his current situation (single; defensively moustached; writing several kids' reference books for a boss who concludes emails using the words “see you later”).
And so Leonard starts himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the performer) acting as his close companion, life coach and partner during their regular board games evening functioning as both discussion (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and safe space.
(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The origin of this name seems forgotten in mystery. It could be that he previously devoured a snack very fast, or reacted to a tense moment by nervously peeling some food items with his teeth).
Entering Leonard's quiet life comes Shelley (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent lively co-worker who happily suggests to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound noticeable represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.
In other scenes during the opening installment of the comedy focused less on story and more on what a modern audience might call “mood”, viewers encounter the older generation (the ever-wonderful the performer), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to impress his loving spouse through his fact recall.
Guiding the audience amidst this subtle warmth is a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “surely the presence of a major Hollywood star contradicts the program's low-key style and starts off as just an interruption?” you would be correct. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” help ensure that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.
But that’s enough grumbling currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: which is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” This is a show that ambles along in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, occasionally down toward the ground, quietly confident that nothing is on Earth as uplifting as passing time in the company of dear pals.
Unlock the entryways within your world, slightly, and let it in.
A financial strategist with over a decade of experience in wealth management and investment planning, dedicated to empowering others.