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In a calm suburb of the Irish capital, a person is standing in his driveway, dressed in a tank top and expressing his thoughts. “It seems like myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” says the protagonist, gazing up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and currently I believe without a change, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best companion, reflects on the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his bathrobe flapping gently. “Superior to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone weary by the noise and constant stimulation of current streaming landscape, the show steps in as a foil blanket and warming mug of Ribena.

In line with its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a half-dozen installment comedy created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the author’s understated 2019 novel – takes a dim view at modern life; peering critically over its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything in the way of unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – too much drive. This show is, instead, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to pootle around out of the spotlight. And yet. He (one more sublimely idiosyncratic turn from the star) feels restless. He notices an increasing “need to open the openings in my existence … a little.” The loss of his mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, an anonymous author, now finds himself reconsidering the decisions that directed him to this point (single; with a protective mustache; writing a range of kids' reference books for an employer who concludes messages with the phrase “see you later”).

And so Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (the actor) serving as his confidante, guide and ally in a recurring board games evening which acts as discussion (“Is the water heated 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 source of this name appears lost in history. It could be that the postal worker once ate a snack very fast, or reacted to a tense moment by nervously peeling four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a new colleague (the actress), a fresh lively colleague who happily suggests to eliminate his terrible supervisor (the actor) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes during the opening installment of this program focused less on story and centered around what a modern audience could describe as “mood”, we meet the older generation (the ever-wonderful the actor), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, saves and reviews trivia competitions to dazzle his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Leading viewers throughout this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and truly is – Julia Roberts. Truly, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “undoubtedly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a distraction?” you're right. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases like “Leonard’s problem is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that first reservations fade if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism currently. The show's core has good intentions: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, indicating the duck it loves.” The program that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring toward the sky, sometimes downward at its feet, calmly assured that no experience is on Earth as uplifting as passing time with dear pals.

Unlock the entryways within your world, a little, and let it in.