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In a quiet area of the Irish capital, an individual stands on the pavement, dressed in a tank top and sharing his concerns. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” says the main character, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and currently I believe without a change, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best companion, ponders these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his dressing gown moving gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For those tired by the noise and rat-tat-tat of current streaming terrain, this series comes similar to a warm cover with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part program written by the writing duo, inspired by the author’s understated book – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything in the way of unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The series is, instead, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute to people content to amble along away from attention. But. The character (one more distinctly original turn from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He notices a creeping “need to open the openings in my existence … just a bit.” The passing of his parent has whisked the rug away from his feet and this young man, a ghost writer, now feels doubting the paths that have brought him to his current situation (unattached; with a protective mustache; writing a range of children’s encyclopedias for a boss who signs off messages using the words “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard starts on a journey for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the performer) acting as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator during their regular gaming session functioning as both debate (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The source of the moniker is shrouded in mystery. It could be that the postal worker previously devoured a snack very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (the performer), a new energetic associate who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate the awful manager (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

In another part during the opening installment of a series driven less by plot and more on what the under-30s could describe as “vibes”, we meet Paul's father (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to impress his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Guiding viewers amidst this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, the star. In case you're considering, “certainly the presence of a major Hollywood star clashes with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue such as “Leonard's challenge is the missing a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that initial doubts yield if not quite to appreciation, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining for now. The series' spirit has good intentions: which is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, indicating its preferred bird.” The program that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring toward the sky, sometimes downward toward the ground, serenely certain that no experience is in the world as cheering as being alongside dear pals.

Unlock the entryways in your existence, a little, and allow it entry.