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In a quiet area of Dublin, a man stands outside his home, sporting a vest and sharing his concerns. “I notice myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” remarks the main character, looking toward the stars. “One thing’s led to another and now it seems without a change, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his closest companion, ponders this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his dressing gown swaying gently. “Better than trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone tired by the noise and fast pace of current streaming landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Like its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode show written by the writing duo, based on Rónán Hession’s understated book – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking disapprovingly through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything in the way of loud sounds, quick actions or – heaven forfend – too much drive. This show on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to wander away from attention. But. The character (one more sublimely idiosyncratic turn from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … just a bit.” The recent death of his beloved mother has yanked the floor away from his feet and this young man, a ghost writer, now realizes reconsidering the choices that directed him to where he is (single; defensively moustached; creating a range of kids' reference books for a boss who concludes messages using the words “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard starts an exploration to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, mentor and ally in a weekly board games evening functioning as both debate (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of this name appears lost in mystery. Maybe Paul on one occasion consumed a snack in record time, or reacted to an awkward situation by panic-peeling some food items using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh lively colleague who happily suggests to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In other scenes in the first episode of this program focused less on story and more by what younger viewers might call “mood”, we are introduced to the older generation (the brilliant the performer), a worn-out individual who privately views, records then replays trivia competitions to impress his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Shepherding the audience through all this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Truly, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “certainly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the show's modest approach and starts off as just a distraction?” you're right. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that early misgivings fade if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” This is a show that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring toward the sky, occasionally down at its feet, serenely certain that nothing is in the world as uplifting as spending time alongside dear pals.

Throw open the portals of your life, slightly, and welcome it inside.