🔗 Share this article

In a calm area of the city, a man is standing in his driveway, wearing a vest and voicing his thoughts. “I notice my voice is fading. More invisible,” states the main character, looking up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and currently it seems without a change, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his only and only friend, considers the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his dressing gown moving in the breeze. “Superior to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone exhausted by the noise and constant stimulation of current streaming landscape, this series comes like a warm cover with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a half-dozen installment program written by its authors, inspired by the author’s subtle 2019 novel – takes a dim view on contemporary society; gazing disapprovingly above its eyewear on everything that involves loud sounds, sudden movements or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. The series rather, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people happy to wander below the parapet. And yet. Leonard (one more sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal by the actor) feels restless. He feels a creeping “desire to unlock the doors and windows of my life … slightly.” The recent death of his mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, an anonymous author, now feels questioning the paths that directed him to his current situation (unattached; with a protective mustache; creating a range of kids' reference books for a man who ends messages using the words “see you later”).

Thus Leonard begins on a journey for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his close companion, mentor and ally in a recurring gaming session that serves both as debate (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the moniker is shrouded in mystery. Maybe he previously devoured a snack unusually quickly, or reacted to an awkward situation by hastily opening several snacks with his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a vibrant character (the performer), a recent lively colleague who cheerily offers to kill the awful manager (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

In other scenes in the first episode of the comedy driven less by plot and more on what younger viewers could describe as “vibes”, we meet Paul's father (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, saves and reviews television game programs to amaze his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading viewers throughout this minor-key niceness is a narrator that sounds very much like – and actually is – the famous actress. Truly, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “certainly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star clashes with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as an interruption?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines like “Leonard's challenge is the missing a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that first reservations yield if not quite to appreciation, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism currently. The show's core is in the right place: the right place being “located on a seat alongside similar shows, pointing out its favourite duck.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, at times staring into space, at other times looking at its feet, calmly assured that nothing is in the world as heartening as spending time with good friends.

Throw open the portals within your world, slightly, and let it in.