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In a peaceful neighborhood of the city, an individual is standing on the pavement, wearing a vest and voicing his thoughts. “It seems like myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” says the protagonist, looking toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point I feel like without a change, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his closest and only friend, considers this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his robe moving with the wind. “Better than trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For viewers exhausted by the chaos and fast pace of today’s TV terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul comes like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

In line with its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-episode show created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the novelist’s quiet 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; looking disapprovingly over its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything in the way of unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The program is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute for those happy to pootle around away from attention. However. He (a further sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways within my world … a little.” The recent death of his beloved mother has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now realizes doubting the decisions that have brought him to his current situation (unattached; sporting facial hair; creating multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who ends correspondence with the phrase “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard launches an exploration for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the performer) acting as his trusted friend, guide and co-conspirator in a weekly board games evening functioning as both debate (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of this name is shrouded in mystery. It could be that Paul previously devoured some food in record time, or reacted to an awkward situation by panic-peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent spring-loaded associate who cheerily offers to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound audible is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the first episode of this program focused less on story and more on what younger viewers may refer to as “vibes”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Leading the audience throughout this subtle warmth is a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, Julia Roberts. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the use of such a famous actor clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a distraction?” you would be correct. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and phrases like “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks an expression of discovery” help ensure that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. The series' spirit has good intentions: that place is “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, pointing out the duck it loves.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, serenely certain that no experience is in the world as heartening as spending time with close companions.

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