The Story of Leonard and Hungry Paul Overview: A Gentle Comedy With Narration from Julia Roberts Provides a Great Remedy to Today's World

In a calm suburb of the Irish capital, a person is standing in his driveway, wearing a tank top and voicing his concerns. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” remarks Leonard, looking up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and now it seems if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, considers this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his robe moving in the breeze. “Superior to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers exhausted by the chaos and constant stimulation of modern television offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

Like its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part program developed by its authors, adapted from the author’s understated story – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; looking disapprovingly over its spectacles toward anything that involves loud sounds, quick actions or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The series is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute for those happy to amble along away from attention. And yet. The character (a further sublimely idiosyncratic performance by the actor) feels restless. He notices a creeping “need to open the openings in my existence … slightly.” The recent death of his mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now feels questioning the paths that directed him to where he is (unattached; sporting facial hair; working on a range of educational volumes for a man who ends messages using the words “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard starts himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his close companion, guide and partner during their regular board games evening which acts as symposium (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The beginning of the nickname seems forgotten to the mists of time. Maybe Paul on one occasion consumed some food unusually quickly, or answered to an awkward situation by hastily opening some food items by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes Shelley (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent spring-loaded co-worker who happily suggests to kill his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) at a fire practice. The rushing noise you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine being turned upside down.

In other scenes in the first episode of this program driven less by plot and centered around what younger viewers could describe as “mood”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the actor), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to impress his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Leading the audience through all this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Truly, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “certainly the use of a major Hollywood star clashes with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases like “Leonard’s problem is the missing a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

Enough complaining currently. The show's core is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating the duck it loves.” The program that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring at the stars, occasionally down at its feet, serenely certain that no experience is on Earth as heartening as spending time with dear pals.

Throw open the portals within your world, a little, and welcome it inside.