🔗 Share this article

In a peaceful area of the Irish capital, a man can be found on the pavement, wearing a vest and sharing his concerns. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” remarks the protagonist, staring up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and at this point I feel like if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” Paul, his only companion, ponders this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his bathrobe moving gently. “Superior to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone weary by the chaos and fast pace of modern television terrain, this series comes as a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

In line with its gentle leads, the series – a six-episode program created by the writing duo, based on Rónán Hession’s understated 2019 novel – casts a critical eye on contemporary society; peering disapprovingly through its eyewear toward anything that involves loud sounds, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – too much drive. This show is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute for those content to pootle around below the parapet. But. The character (another uniquely quirky portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He senses a creeping “desire to unlock the entryways within my world … slightly.” The recent death of his parent has pulled the carpet out from under him and this young man, a writer for others, now realizes reconsidering the decisions which led him to where he is (unattached; with a protective mustache; writing a range of children’s encyclopedias for a boss who ends messages using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard begins himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Paul (the actor) serving as his close companion, mentor and ally in a weekly board games evening which acts as debate (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do children urinate as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The origin of this name seems forgotten in history. Perhaps the postal worker on one occasion consumed a snack unusually quickly, or responded to an awkward situation by panic-peeling some food items by biting into them).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent lively colleague who happily suggests to get rid of his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The swift movement audible represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

Elsewhere in the first episode of this program driven less by plot and centered around what the under-30s might call “atmosphere”, viewers encounter the older generation (the consistently great the performer), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to impress his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Shepherding the audience amidst this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Yes, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the inclusion of such a famous actor contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as a distraction?” you're right. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and lines such as “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

But that’s enough grumbling for now. The show's core has good intentions: which is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, showing the duck it loves.” It’s a series that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up at the stars, occasionally down at its slippers, quietly confident that there is nothing in life as cheering as passing time in the company of close companions.

Unlock the entryways of your life, a little, and allow it entry.