🔗 Share this article

In a peaceful suburb of Dublin, an individual is standing in his driveway, sporting a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “It seems like myself getting quieter. More invisible,” states the main character, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and now I feel like without a change, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, considers the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his dressing gown moving gently. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers exhausted by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV landscape, this series comes like a warm cover and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

Like its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part program written by the writing duo, inspired by Rónán Hession’s quiet 2019 novel – takes a dim view at modern life; looking disapprovingly above its spectacles on everything related to unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. This show is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute of those happy to wander below the parapet. But. Leonard (one more uniquely quirky portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He senses an increasing “need to open the entryways within my world … slightly.” The passing of his mother has yanked the floor away from his feet and this young man, an anonymous author, now realizes doubting the paths which led him to his current situation (alone; with a protective mustache; writing multiple kids' reference books for a man who concludes emails with the phrase “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard starts an exploration to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (the performer) functioning as his confidante, life coach and co-conspirator during their regular gaming session which acts as symposium (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The beginning of this name appears lost in mystery. It could be that the postal worker previously devoured a snack in record time, or reacted to an awkward situation by nervously peeling several snacks with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes a new colleague (the performer), a fresh energetic associate who happily suggests to get rid of the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

Elsewhere in the initial show of a series focused less on story and more by what younger viewers could describe as “atmosphere”, we are introduced to the older generation (the ever-wonderful the actor), a tired character who covertly observes, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to impress his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Shepherding us through all this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Indeed, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and lines like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” help ensure that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is well-intentioned: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that moves gently wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that there is nothing on Earth as cheering as spending time with good friends.

Throw open the portals in your existence, slightly, and welcome it inside.