In a peaceful suburb of the Irish capital, a man can be found in his driveway, sporting a tank top and voicing his thoughts. “It seems like myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” states the main character, looking into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I believe if I don’t do something, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his closest companion, reflects on the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his dressing gown flapping in the breeze. “Better than attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”
For those tired by the noise and constant stimulation of today’s TV offerings, this series arrives like a foil blanket with a hot drink of Ribena.
Similar to its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-episode show written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by Rónán Hession’s subtle story – casts a critical eye on contemporary society; peering disapprovingly through its spectacles at anything in the way of loud sounds, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. The program on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. Leonard (another uniquely quirky performance from the star) feels restless. He feels an increasing “need to open the openings in my existence … slightly.” The recent death of his parent has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now feels doubting the paths that directed him to this point (single; with a protective mustache; creating several educational volumes for an employer who concludes correspondence using the words “see you later”).
And so Leonard begins himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) acting as his close companion, mentor and ally during their regular gaming session which acts as debate (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.
(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The source of the moniker appears lost in mystery. Maybe Paul on one occasion consumed some food very fast, or responded to a tense moment by panic-peeling some food items using his teeth).
Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh energetic associate who happily suggests to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.
In other scenes during the opening installment of a series driven less by plot and more on what a modern audience could describe as “atmosphere”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the ever-wonderful Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, records then replays television game programs to dazzle his devoted partner through his fact recall.
Shepherding us amidst this subtle warmth is a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Indeed, the star. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of such a famous actor clashes with the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that early misgivings yield if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.
Enough complaining currently. The series' spirit has good intentions: that place is “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out the duck it loves.” It’s a series that ambles along in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that there is nothing in life as heartening as being with dear pals.
Throw open the portals in your existence, slightly, and welcome it inside.
A tech enthusiast and lifestyle writer with a passion for exploring how innovation shapes daily experiences and personal growth.