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In a calm area of the city, an individual can be found outside his home, dressed in a vest and sharing his thoughts. “I notice myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” states the main character, staring up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and currently it seems unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his dressing gown swaying in the breeze. “Superior to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For viewers exhausted by the noise and rat-tat-tat of modern television offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in similar to a cozy wrap and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.

Like its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-part show written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the novelist’s subtle 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; looking critically over its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything in the way of loud sounds, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The series is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute of those happy to wander below the parapet. And yet. The character (another uniquely quirky portrayal from Alex Lawther) feels restless. He feels an increasing “need to open the entryways of my life … a little.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now feels questioning the paths that directed him to where he is (alone; defensively moustached; creating a range of kids' reference books for a man who ends messages with the phrase “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard launches an exploration for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the performer) acting as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator during their regular game night functioning as both discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The origin of the moniker appears lost in history. It could be that he on one occasion consumed some food unusually quickly, or responded to a tense moment by panic-peeling some food items with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a new colleague (the performer), a fresh energetic co-worker who happily suggests to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise you can hear represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

Elsewhere in the initial show of the comedy focused less on story and centered around what the under-30s might call “mood”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the performer), a worn-out individual who privately views, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to dazzle his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Shepherding us throughout this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and truly is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the star. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a diversion?” you're right. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings fade if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, showing the duck it loves.” The program that ambles along in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, occasionally down at its feet, serenely certain that nothing is in the world as heartening as passing time alongside good friends.

Throw open the portals within your world, slightly, and allow it entry.