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In a quiet suburb of the city, a man is standing on the pavement, wearing a vest and voicing his concerns. “It seems like my voice is fading. More invisible,” says the protagonist, looking up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and at this point it seems unless I take action, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his only confidant, reflects on the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his dressing gown moving gently. “Superior to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For those exhausted by the noise and constant stimulation of today’s TV landscape, this series arrives similar to a warm cover and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part show written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from Rónán Hession’s quiet 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; looking skeptically over its spectacles at anything that involves unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The program rather, a tribute to quiet people; a subtle homage for those content to wander out of the spotlight. But. Leonard (one more distinctly original portrayal from the star) is unsettled. He feels a creeping “desire to unlock the entryways within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his beloved mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now finds himself questioning the choices which led him to his current situation (single; sporting facial hair; writing several kids' reference books for an employer who ends correspondence using the words “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard starts himself on a quest to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his close companion, life coach and partner during their regular gaming session that serves both as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The source of the nickname is shrouded in history. It could be that the postal worker on one occasion consumed some food in record time, or responded to an awkward situation by panic-peeling four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a new colleague (the actress), a recent energetic co-worker who happily suggests to kill the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

In another part in the initial show of this program focused less on story and centered around what younger viewers may refer to as “mood”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the performer), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to amaze his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Leading us throughout this subtle warmth there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Indeed, the star. In case you're considering, “certainly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star clashes with the show's modest approach and initially serves only as an interruption?” that's accurate. However, the actress performs admirably, and phrases like “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that first reservations fade if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. The series' spirit has good intentions: which is “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, pointing out its favourite duck.” This is a show that moves gently wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up toward the sky, occasionally down at its slippers, quietly confident that there is nothing on Earth as heartening as being in the company of close companions.

Unlock the entryways of your life, slightly, and welcome it inside.