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In a calm area of the Irish capital, a man can be found on the pavement, sporting a vest and voicing his thoughts. “I feel myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” states the protagonist, looking toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and now I feel like without a change, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, ponders this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his dressing gown swaying in the breeze. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone weary by the bluster and fast pace of modern television landscape, the show steps in similar to a warm cover and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode show written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on the author’s subtle 2019 novel – takes a dim view toward today's world; peering disapprovingly through its eyewear on everything that involves disturbances, quick actions or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. This show on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage for those satisfied to amble along below the parapet. And yet. He (one more sublimely idiosyncratic turn by the actor) feels restless. He senses a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his parent has yanked the floor away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now realizes questioning the choices that directed him to this point (single; sporting facial hair; creating multiple children’s encyclopedias for a boss who concludes messages with the phrase “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Paul (the performer) acting as his trusted friend, life coach and ally in a recurring board games evening functioning as both discussion (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the nickname seems forgotten in history. Perhaps Paul once ate a snack unusually quickly, or responded to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening several snacks using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence cartwheels a vibrant character (the performer), a recent energetic co-worker who cheerily offers to kill his terrible supervisor (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise audible is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part in the initial show of a series not heavily plotted and more on what the under-30s may refer to as “atmosphere”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the brilliant the performer), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, records then replays television game programs to dazzle his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Leading the audience amidst this gentle kindness there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just an interruption?” you're right. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and lines such as “Leonard's challenge is the missing a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that initial doubts fade if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism for now. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: which is “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, indicating its preferred bird.” It’s a series that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward into space, occasionally down at its feet, serenely certain that nothing is in life as uplifting as being in the company of dear pals.

Open the doors and windows in your existence, slightly, and welcome it inside.