🔗 Share this article

In a quiet neighborhood of the city, a person stands outside his home, sporting a sleeveless jumper and expressing his concerns. “It seems like myself getting quieter. More invisible,” says the protagonist, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and currently I feel like unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his only companion, ponders these words. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his bathrobe moving gently. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For those weary by the bluster and fast pace of modern television terrain, this series comes like a foil blanket and warming mug of Ribena.

Similar to its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-episode program created by the writing duo, adapted from Rónán Hession’s subtle story – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything related to loud sounds, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The program on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration to people content to pootle around below the parapet. But. Leonard (another uniquely quirky portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He feels a creeping “need to open the doors and windows within my world … a little.” The recent death of his mother has pulled the carpet from under his slippers and Leonard, a writer for others, now realizes reconsidering the choices which led him to where he is (unattached; sporting facial hair; creating a range of kids' reference books for a boss who signs off correspondence with the phrase “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard starts on a journey to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, guide and ally during their regular board games evening that serves both as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The beginning of this name appears lost in mystery. It could be that he once ate some food unusually quickly, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence cartwheels a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate the awful manager (the actor) during the office fire drill. The swift movement you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In other scenes in the first episode of a series not heavily plotted and more by what a modern audience may refer to as “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who secretly watches, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to amaze his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Guiding us amidst this subtle warmth there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and truly is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the celebrity. In case you're considering, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as an interruption?” that's accurate. Still, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a look of sudden insight” help ensure that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The show's core is well-intentioned: that place is “located on a seat alongside similar shows, showing its preferred bird.” This is a show that moves gently in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward into space, at other times looking at its slippers, calmly assured that there is nothing in life as cheering as being alongside close companions.

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