The Story of Leonard and Hungry Paul Analysis: A Gentle Series Narrated by the Famous Actress Provides a Great Cure to Contemporary Living

In a quiet neighborhood of the Irish capital, a person can be found in his driveway, sporting a tank top and sharing his thoughts. “I notice my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” states the main character, staring toward the stars. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I believe if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best companion, reflects on the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his bathrobe moving in the breeze. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For those weary by the noise and fast pace of modern television terrain, the show arrives similar to a warm cover and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Like its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part program created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on the novelist’s understated story – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; looking critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything related to disturbances, quick actions or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. The program is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute to people happy to pootle around out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (a further sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal from the star) is uneasy. He senses a growing “desire to unlock the openings within my world … slightly.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor from under his slippers and this young man, a ghost writer, now realizes questioning the decisions that directed him to this point (alone; defensively moustached; working on multiple kids' reference books for a man who ends correspondence using the words “see you later”).

Thus Leonard begins himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (the actor) acting as his close companion, life coach and co-conspirator in a recurring gaming session that serves both as discussion (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The origin of the moniker seems forgotten in history. It could be that he previously devoured a sandwich in record time, or answered to an awkward situation by hastily opening four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (the performer), a recent energetic colleague who happily suggests to eliminate the awful manager (the actor) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound audible is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In other scenes in the first episode of this program driven less by plot and more on what a modern audience may refer to as “mood”, we meet Paul's father (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, records then replays trivia competitions to dazzle his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Guiding the audience throughout this gentle kindness there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, the star. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of a big-name celebrity contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you would be correct. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases like “Leonard’s problem is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that early misgivings yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: which is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up at the stars, at other times looking at its feet, serenely certain that there is nothing on Earth as heartening as passing time with dear pals.

Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and let it in.