🔗 Share this article

In a quiet neighborhood of Dublin, a person is standing outside his home, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” remarks Leonard, looking up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and currently I believe if I don’t do something, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his only companion, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his bathrobe flapping with the wind. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For viewers exhausted by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of modern television landscape, this series comes like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

Similar to its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-episode comedy created by its authors, based on the novelist’s quiet 2019 novel – takes a dim view toward today's world; peering critically through its spectacles at anything related to unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. The program rather, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage to people happy to amble along away from attention. But. The character (one more uniquely quirky portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He feels a creeping “need to open the entryways in my existence … a little.” The loss of his mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, a writer for others, now feels reconsidering the decisions that directed him to his current situation (unattached; defensively moustached; working on a range of educational volumes for a boss who ends emails saying “goodbye for now”).

And so Leonard begins himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his close companion, guide and ally in a weekly board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The source of the nickname seems forgotten in mystery. It could be that he previously devoured a sandwich very fast, or responded to an awkward situation by nervously peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded associate who happily suggests to kill the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement you can hear represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of a series not heavily plotted and more by what younger viewers could describe as “mood”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the performer), a tired character who privately views, saves and reviews trivia competitions to dazzle his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Shepherding the audience throughout this subtle warmth is a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the famous actress. Yes, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you would be correct. Still, Roberts does a good job, and lines for example “Leonard’s problem is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that initial doubts give way if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: which is “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, showing its favourite duck.” This is a show that moves gently wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up at the stars, at other times looking at its feet, serenely certain that no experience is in the world as uplifting as spending time in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows in your existence, slightly, and welcome it inside.