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In a calm suburb of the city, a person stands on the pavement, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and voicing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” says the main character, looking into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and currently I feel like if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his closest confidant, reflects on the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his bathrobe moving gently. “Better than trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers weary by the chaos and fast pace of current streaming terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in like a warm cover with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a six-part program written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on Rónán Hession’s quiet 2019 novel – casts a critical eye at modern life; peering disapprovingly over its eyewear at anything that involves loud sounds, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. The program on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute of those content to pootle around out of the spotlight. But. The character (another uniquely quirky performance from the star) feels restless. He feels a growing “desire to unlock the entryways within my world … just a bit.” The recent death of his mother has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now realizes doubting the decisions which led him to his current situation (unattached; defensively moustached; working on a range of kids' reference books for a boss who ends emails using the words “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard launches on a journey to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his confidante, mentor and ally in a recurring game night functioning as both debate (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The source of the moniker is shrouded in history. Perhaps Paul on one occasion consumed some food very fast, or responded to a tense moment by panic-peeling some food items by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh lively colleague who lightheartedly proposes to kill his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) at a fire practice. The rushing noise audible is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

In another part during the opening installment of a series not heavily plotted and more on what younger viewers might call “vibes”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the brilliant the actor), a tired character who secretly watches, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to dazzle his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Leading us through all this subtle warmth there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “surely the inclusion of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases like “The issue with Leonard is the missing a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that first reservations yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining for now. The series' spirit is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing the duck it loves.” The program that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward into space, sometimes downward at its feet, calmly assured that no experience is on Earth as cheering as passing time in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, slightly, and allow it entry.