Leonard and Hungry Paul Review: A Soothing Series Narrated by the Famous Actress Offers a Great Antidote to Today's World

In a quiet neighborhood of the city, a man stands outside his home, wearing a tank top and sharing his concerns. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” remarks Leonard, looking into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and now I believe unless I take action, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, his only companion, considers these words. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his dressing gown flapping in the breeze. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For viewers tired by the bluster and fast pace of modern television landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in like a foil blanket and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by Rónán Hession’s understated book – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; looking disapprovingly above its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. The program rather, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage to people satisfied to wander below the parapet. However. The character (another sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He senses a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows of my life … slightly.” The passing of his parent has pulled the carpet away from his feet and Leonard, a ghost writer, now feels reconsidering the choices that directed him to where he is (single; defensively moustached; writing multiple educational volumes for a man who ends emails saying “see you later”).

And so Leonard launches an exploration for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) acting as his close companion, guide and partner during their regular game night functioning as both discussion (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The origin of the moniker appears lost in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker previously devoured some food very fast, or responded to an awkward situation by nervously peeling four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a new colleague (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded associate who cheerily offers to get rid of the awful manager (Paul Reid) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the initial show of this program focused less on story and centered around what a modern audience could describe as “mood”, we meet Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the performer), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches television game programs to impress his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Shepherding us throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of a major Hollywood star clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a distraction?” you would be correct. Still, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue such as “Leonard's challenge is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that first reservations yield if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining for now. The show's core is well-intentioned: the right place being “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, showing its favourite duck.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, at times staring into space, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that no experience is in the world as uplifting as passing time with good friends.

Open the doors and windows within your world, a little, and welcome it inside.