Leonard & Hungry Paul Analysis: A Gentle Comedy With Narration from the Hollywood Star Provides a Great Remedy to Contemporary Living

In a calm suburb of the city, an individual can be found in his driveway, dressed in a tank top and sharing his concerns. “I notice myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” remarks the protagonist, gazing into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I feel like if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his only and only friend, ponders this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his dressing gown flapping in the breeze. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For those tired by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of current streaming offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul comes as a warm cover and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode show written by the writing duo, based on the author’s subtle story – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; looking skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything in the way of unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The series on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to amble along below the parapet. And yet. The character (one more uniquely quirky turn from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He notices a creeping “desire to unlock the doors and windows of my life … just a bit.” The loss of his parent has whisked the rug from under his slippers and Leonard, a writer for others, now feels reconsidering the paths which led him to where he is (single; sporting facial hair; working on a range of children’s encyclopedias for a boss who ends correspondence using the words “see you later”).

And so Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) serving as his trusted friend, mentor and ally in a weekly gaming session which acts as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The origin of the nickname appears lost to the mists of time. It could be that he on one occasion consumed some food in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a new spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to kill his terrible supervisor (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise audible represents Leonard's calm life undergoing a shake-up.

In another part during the opening installment of the comedy not heavily plotted and more on what a modern audience might call “vibes”, viewers encounter Paul's father (the brilliant the performer), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to dazzle his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Guiding viewers amidst this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Indeed, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the inclusion of such a famous actor contradicts the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts does a good job, and phrases like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The series' spirit has good intentions: that place is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, pointing out its favourite duck.” It’s a series that ambles along in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up at the stars, occasionally down at its slippers, quietly confident that no experience is in life as heartening as being alongside dear pals.

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