Leonard and Hungry Paul Review: A Gentle Series With Narration from Julia Roberts Brings an Ideal Antidote to Contemporary Living

In a quiet suburb of the city, a person is standing outside his home, wearing a vest and expressing his feelings. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” states the protagonist, staring into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and now I feel like without a change, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest companion, reflects on these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his bathrobe moving gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers tired by the bluster and fast pace of modern television offerings, this series comes like a foil blanket and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, the series – a half-dozen installment show developed by its authors, adapted from Rónán Hession’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; looking disapprovingly through its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything related to disturbances, sudden movements or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. This show rather, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration for those satisfied to pootle around away from attention. However. Leonard (a further sublimely idiosyncratic turn by the actor) is unsettled. He senses a creeping “desire to unlock the openings within my world … just a bit.” The recent death of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now finds himself doubting the choices that directed him to his current situation (unattached; with a protective mustache; creating multiple kids' reference books for a boss who signs off correspondence saying “see you later”).

Thus Leonard launches an exploration for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (the performer) serving as his confidante, mentor and ally during their regular board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of the moniker seems forgotten in history. Maybe Paul once ate some food very fast, or responded to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling some food items using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes Shelley (the performer), a new spring-loaded associate who cheerily offers to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine being turned upside down.

In another part in the first episode of this program focused less on story and more on what younger viewers may refer to as “vibes”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the actor), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, tapes and rewatches television game programs to impress his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Shepherding viewers amidst this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “surely the presence of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you would be correct. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that initial doubts fade if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The series' spirit has good intentions: that place is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its preferred bird.” The program that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring into space, occasionally down at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is in the world as uplifting as spending time alongside close companions.

Throw open the portals within your world, a little, and allow it entry.