In a peaceful neighborhood of the city, a person can be found outside his home, sporting a vest and voicing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” says the main character, staring up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point I feel like without a change, I will continue in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his only companion, reflects on these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his dressing gown moving with the wind. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”
For those weary by the chaos and fast pace of today’s TV terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives as a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.
In line with its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a half-dozen installment comedy developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the novelist’s quiet story – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking skeptically over its spectacles toward anything in the way of disturbances, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. This show on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute of those content to amble along out of the spotlight. But. Leonard (a further distinctly original turn from the star) feels restless. He notices an increasing “desire to unlock the entryways in my existence … a little.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now realizes reconsidering the decisions that have brought him to this point (single; defensively moustached; creating multiple educational volumes for an employer who signs off messages saying “ciao for now”).
Thus Leonard launches on a journey to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his trusted friend, mentor and co-conspirator in a weekly board games evening that serves both as discussion (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and refuge.
(How did Paul get his nickname? No idea. The beginning of this name is shrouded in mystery. Maybe he on one occasion consumed some food very fast, or answered to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs by biting into them).
Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (the actress), a fresh energetic co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement you can hear represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.
In other scenes during the opening installment of this program not heavily plotted and centered around what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we meet Paul's father (the brilliant the actor), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his devoted partner with his general knowledge.
Guiding us throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Indeed, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the use of a major Hollywood star contradicts the show's modest approach and starts off as just an interruption?” you're right. However, the actress performs admirably, and phrases like “Leonard’s problem is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.
Enough complaining currently. The series' spirit has good intentions: the right place being “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, pointing out its preferred bird.” The program that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, at other times looking at its feet, calmly assured that there is nothing in the world as cheering as passing time alongside dear pals.
Unlock the entryways of your life, just a bit, and allow it entry.