In a quiet neighborhood of Dublin, an individual is standing on the pavement, dressed in a tank top and voicing his feelings. “It seems like my voice is fading. More invisible,” states the protagonist, looking into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point it seems without a change, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” Paul, his closest and only friend, ponders these words. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his robe swaying in the breeze. “Better than trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”
For anyone tired by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of current streaming terrain, this series steps in like a foil blanket with a hot drink of Ribena.
Similar to its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part comedy written by the writing duo, based on Rónán Hession’s quiet book – looks disapprovingly at modern life; looking critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything related to loud sounds, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. This show is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage for those satisfied to amble along below the parapet. But. The character (one more distinctly original portrayal from Alex Lawther) feels restless. He notices an increasing “urge to throw open the openings within my world … a little.” The loss of his mother has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now feels reconsidering the choices which led him to where he is (single; with a protective mustache; working on a range of children’s encyclopedias for an employer who ends emails saying “ciao for now”).
Therefore Leonard begins himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his close companion, mentor and co-conspirator in a recurring gaming session functioning as both discussion (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.
(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of the nickname appears lost in history. It could be that he once ate a snack unusually quickly, or reacted to a tense moment by hastily opening some food items using his teeth).
Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded colleague who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate the awful manager (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.
Elsewhere in the initial show of the comedy not heavily plotted and more by what the under-30s may refer to as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter the older generation (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays trivia competitions to dazzle his loving spouse using his trivia skills.
Guiding viewers throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases for example “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings fade though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.
But that’s enough grumbling at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: that place is “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, showing its preferred bird.” This is a show that moves gently in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up into space, sometimes downward toward the ground, serenely certain that no experience is in life as heartening as passing time with good friends.
Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and let it in.
A passionate gambling analyst with over a decade of experience in reviewing online casinos and slot games across Europe.