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In a quiet area of Dublin, a person can be found on the pavement, sporting a tank top and sharing his feelings. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” remarks Leonard, looking into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and currently it seems unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his closest companion, considers the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his bathrobe flapping gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For viewers weary by the chaos and constant stimulation of current streaming landscape, the show steps in as a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on the author’s quiet 2019 novel – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking skeptically above its eyewear at anything that involves loud sounds, sudden movements or – perish the thought – too much drive. This show rather, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration for those happy to amble along below the parapet. However. He (a further uniquely quirky portrayal from the star) is unsettled. He feels a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … a little.” The passing of his mother has pulled the carpet out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now finds himself questioning the paths which led him to where he is (alone; with a protective mustache; writing several educational volumes for an employer who concludes emails saying “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard begins on a journey for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his close companion, guide and ally in a recurring gaming session which acts as discussion (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The source of the moniker seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps he once ate a sandwich very fast, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a new colleague (the actress), a new spring-loaded colleague who cheerily offers to kill the awful manager (Paul Reid) at a fire practice. The rushing noise noticeable represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes during the opening installment of the comedy focused less on story and more on what a modern audience might call “mood”, we meet Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the performer), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Shepherding us amidst this gentle kindness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “certainly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity contradicts the program's low-key style and starts off as just a distraction?” you're right. However, the actress performs admirably, and lines for example “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings give way if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining for now. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: the right place being “sitting on a park bench next to the Detectorists, indicating its favourite duck.” This is a show that ambles along in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward into space, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is in life as uplifting as spending time with dear pals.

Open the doors and windows in your existence, a little, and allow it entry.