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In a quiet area of the city, a person can be found on the pavement, sporting a tank top and voicing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” says the main character, staring into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point I feel like if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, his closest confidant, ponders the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his robe swaying in the breeze. “Better than striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For those tired by the chaos and rat-tat-tat of current streaming terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives similar to a cozy wrap and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode show developed by the writing duo, inspired by Rónán Hession’s quiet book – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; looking skeptically over its spectacles toward anything in the way of unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. The program on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage for those satisfied to pootle around away from attention. However. The character (a further distinctly original performance from the star) is unsettled. He senses an increasing “desire to unlock the openings of my life … a little.” The passing of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now finds himself questioning the paths which led him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; working on a range of kids' reference books for a man who concludes correspondence saying “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard starts himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, life coach and partner in a recurring game night functioning as both discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The origin of the nickname appears lost to the mists of time. Perhaps the postal worker previously devoured some food very fast, or responded to a tense moment by hastily opening some food items with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes Shelley (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent lively colleague who cheerily offers to eliminate his terrible supervisor (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part in the initial show of the comedy driven less by plot and more on what the under-30s could describe as “mood”, we meet the older generation (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Guiding the audience through all this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, Julia Roberts. Should you wonder, “surely the use of such a famous actor clashes with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue like “The issue with Leonard is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that early misgivings give way though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism currently. The show's core is in the right place: which is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, pointing out the duck it loves.” This is a show that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward into space, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that nothing is in life as cheering as spending time in the company of good friends.

Unlock the entryways of your life, slightly, and welcome it inside.