In a peaceful neighborhood of Dublin, an individual is standing outside his home, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and sharing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” says the main character, staring up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and now it seems if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, ponders these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his bathrobe swaying in the breeze. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”
For viewers exhausted by the bluster and constant stimulation of current streaming landscape, this series arrives similar to a warm cover and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.
Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a six-part show developed by the writing duo, adapted from the author’s understated 2019 novel – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking skeptically through its eyewear on everything that involves unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. The series rather, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration for those satisfied to amble along below the parapet. And yet. He (one more distinctly original turn from the star) is unsettled. He notices an increasing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … a little.” The loss of his parent has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now feels reconsidering the paths that have brought him to this point (single; with a protective mustache; writing multiple kids' reference books for a boss who signs off messages using the words “goodbye for now”).
And so Leonard begins himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his confidante, life coach and ally in a weekly game night which acts as debate (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and refuge.
(How did Paul get his nickname? No idea. The source of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. Maybe the postal worker once ate a snack very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by nervously peeling four scotch eggs with his teeth).
Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts a new colleague (the performer), a new energetic colleague who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life undergoing a shake-up.
In another part during the opening installment of a series focused less on story and centered around what younger viewers could describe as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Paul's father (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to dazzle his devoted partner through his fact recall.
Shepherding the audience through all this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Yes, Julia Roberts. Should you wonder, “surely the use of a major Hollywood star clashes with the show's modest approach and starts off as just an interruption?” you're right. Still, Roberts does a good job, and phrases such as “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.
Enough complaining at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “located on a seat alongside similar shows, indicating its favourite duck.” This is a show that moves gently wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up into space, at other times looking at its slippers, quietly confident that there is nothing on Earth as uplifting as being with good friends.
Throw open the portals of your life, slightly, and let it in.
A tech enthusiast and consumer advocate with over a decade of experience testing and reviewing products across various categories.