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In a peaceful suburb of the Irish capital, a man stands outside his home, dressed in a tank top and expressing his thoughts. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” remarks the main character, staring into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and now I feel like if I don’t do something, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best companion, reflects on this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his bathrobe flapping with the wind. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For those tired by the chaos and constant stimulation of current streaming offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives like a foil blanket with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Like its gentle leads, this comedy – a six-part program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the author’s subtle 2019 novel – takes a dim view on contemporary society; looking disapprovingly above its eyewear on everything related to unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. The program on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute to people happy to wander away from attention. But. The character (one more uniquely quirky performance from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He notices a creeping “need to open the openings of my life … just a bit.” The passing of his parent has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now feels reconsidering the decisions that have brought him to this point (alone; with a protective mustache; creating multiple educational volumes for an employer who ends emails saying “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard starts on a journey for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his confidante, mentor and partner in a weekly gaming session functioning as both discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of the nickname seems forgotten to the mists of time. Perhaps the postal worker on one occasion consumed some food in record time, or responded to an awkward situation by nervously peeling some food items using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts Shelley (the actress), a recent lively colleague who lightheartedly proposes to kill the awful manager (Paul Reid) at a fire practice. The swift movement you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the first episode of this program focused less on story and centered around what the under-30s may refer to as “mood”, we meet Paul's father (the consistently great the actor), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, saves and reviews trivia competitions to amaze his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Leading the audience amidst this gentle kindness is a narrator who closely resembles – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” you would be correct. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines such as “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that early misgivings fade if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The series' spirit is in the right place: which is “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, pointing out the duck it loves.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up at the stars, occasionally down at its slippers, quietly confident that no experience is in the world as uplifting as being alongside dear pals.

Unlock the entryways in your existence, just a bit, and allow it entry.