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In a calm area of the Irish capital, a person can be found outside his home, wearing a tank top and sharing his thoughts. “I feel myself getting quieter. More invisible,” states Leonard, gazing into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and currently it seems unless I take action, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his closest and only friend, ponders these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his dressing gown moving gently. “Better than trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For those weary by the chaos and constant stimulation of modern television offerings, the show arrives as a cozy wrap and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Like its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode comedy developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the author’s understated book – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; gazing skeptically over its eyewear toward anything related to disturbances, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The program on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage of those satisfied to amble along out of the spotlight. However. Leonard (a further uniquely quirky turn from the star) feels restless. He feels a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways in my existence … just a bit.” The recent death of his mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and this young man, a writer for others, now finds himself questioning the decisions that directed him to his current situation (alone; sporting facial hair; working on multiple educational volumes for a man who concludes messages saying “see you later”).

Thus Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the actor) acting as his trusted friend, guide and co-conspirator in a recurring gaming session that serves both as discussion (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of the nickname seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker once ate a snack in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels Shelley (the performer), a fresh spring-loaded associate who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. The rushing noise noticeable represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of this program driven less by plot and more by what a modern audience could describe as “vibes”, we are introduced to the older generation (the brilliant the actor), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to amaze his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading us amidst this gentle kindness is a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star clashes with the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as a distraction?” you would be correct. Still, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” help ensure that early misgivings yield if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism at this time. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: the right place being “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, indicating its favourite duck.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, sometimes downward toward the ground, calmly assured that there is nothing on Earth as heartening as being in the company of close companions.

Unlock the entryways of your life, a little, and let it in.