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In a quiet area of Dublin, an individual stands on the pavement, wearing a tank top and expressing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. More invisible,” states the protagonist, staring up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point it seems without a change, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his only and only friend, reflects on these words. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his robe swaying with the wind. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For viewers tired by the bluster and fast pace of current streaming terrain, this series arrives as a warm cover with a hot drink of Ribena.

In line with its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part show developed by the writing duo, adapted from the novelist’s understated book – takes a dim view toward today's world; peering skeptically above its spectacles toward anything that involves disturbances, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – too much drive. This show is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration of those happy to amble along away from attention. However. He (a further uniquely quirky turn from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He feels a creeping “need to open the entryways within my world … a little.” The passing of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now finds himself reconsidering the decisions that directed him to his current situation (single; with a protective mustache; writing multiple children’s encyclopedias for an employer who signs off correspondence using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard launches himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (the actor) functioning as his trusted friend, mentor and co-conspirator in a weekly game night which acts as debate (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The origin of the moniker is shrouded in mystery. Maybe Paul on one occasion consumed a snack unusually quickly, or reacted to a tense moment by nervously peeling four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (the performer), a new lively associate who cheerily offers to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine being turned upside down.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of the comedy driven less by plot and more by what the under-30s may refer to as “vibes”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the performer), a tired character who privately views, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Shepherding viewers amidst this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, Julia Roberts. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the show's modest approach and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts does a good job, and lines for example “The issue with Leonard is his absence of an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings yield if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: the right place being “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, showing its preferred bird.” The program that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, occasionally down at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is on Earth as uplifting as being in the company of dear pals.

Unlock the entryways within your world, just a bit, and welcome it inside.