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In a quiet neighborhood of the Irish capital, a person stands outside his home, wearing a sleeveless jumper and voicing his feelings. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” says the protagonist, gazing into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and now I believe if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, considers these words. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his dressing gown moving with the wind. “Better than attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For those exhausted by the bluster and fast pace of current streaming terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in as a foil blanket with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-part program created by the writing duo, adapted from the author’s subtle 2019 novel – takes a dim view on contemporary society; gazing disapprovingly above its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything in the way of disturbances, sudden movements or – perish the thought – too much drive. This show on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage of those happy to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. Leonard (a further sublimely idiosyncratic performance from Alex Lawther) feels restless. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the openings of my life … slightly.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor from under his slippers and Leonard, a ghost writer, now realizes doubting the decisions that directed him to where he is (alone; defensively moustached; writing a range of kids' reference books for a boss who signs off emails with the phrase “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins on a journey to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (the performer) serving as his trusted friend, guide and co-conspirator in a recurring board games evening that serves both as debate (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The beginning of the moniker is shrouded in mystery. It could be that Paul previously devoured a snack unusually quickly, or reacted to an awkward situation by hastily opening four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts a new colleague (the performer), a fresh lively colleague who happily suggests to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes during the opening installment of this program focused less on story and centered around what the under-30s could describe as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Paul's father (the consistently great the performer), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to impress his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Guiding viewers amidst this subtle warmth there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and actually is – the famous actress. Indeed, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “undoubtedly the inclusion of such a famous actor is at odds with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” you're right. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases for example “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, indicating its preferred bird.” It’s a series that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, at times staring into space, occasionally down at its slippers, serenely certain that no experience is on Earth as cheering as being in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, just a bit, and welcome it inside.