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In a quiet suburb of the Irish capital, a man is standing outside his home, dressed in a vest and voicing his thoughts. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” remarks the protagonist, staring toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and at this point it seems without a change, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his closest companion, ponders these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his dressing gown flapping with the wind. “Better than trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone tired by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV offerings, the show steps in similar to a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

In line with its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode show developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on Rónán Hession’s subtle 2019 novel – casts a critical eye on contemporary society; looking critically through its spectacles on everything that involves disturbances, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. This show rather, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration to people happy to amble along away from attention. And yet. The character (another uniquely quirky portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He notices an increasing “desire to unlock the openings of my life … slightly.” The loss of his mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now finds himself questioning the decisions which led him to where he is (alone; sporting facial hair; creating a range of educational volumes for an employer who signs off messages saying “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard starts an exploration for personal satisfaction, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the performer) functioning as his trusted friend, mentor and partner during their regular gaming session which acts as debate (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of this name is shrouded in history. Maybe the postal worker previously devoured some food unusually quickly, or answered to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling some food items by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts Shelley (the actress), a new lively co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate his terrible supervisor (the actor) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of a series focused less on story and more by what the under-30s could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the actor), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, records then replays daytime quiz shows to dazzle his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Shepherding viewers throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the presence of a big-name celebrity contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just an interruption?” you would be correct. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and lines such as “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings yield though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, showing its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up toward the sky, occasionally down toward the ground, serenely certain that no experience is in life as heartening as being with good friends.

Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and welcome it inside.