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In a peaceful area of the Irish capital, a person stands on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his concerns. “I notice my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” states the main character, looking up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and now I believe if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, reflects on these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his robe moving gently. “Preferable to striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone exhausted by the noise and rat-tat-tat of current streaming landscape, the show comes similar to a cozy wrap with a hot drink of Ribena.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part program created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the novelist’s subtle story – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing skeptically over its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything related to disturbances, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. This show rather, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage to people happy to amble along below the parapet. And yet. The character (one more distinctly original turn from the star) is uneasy. He feels a growing “need to open the entryways of my life … a little.” The passing of his beloved mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and Leonard, a ghost writer, now realizes reconsidering the paths which led him to this point (unattached; defensively moustached; working on several children’s encyclopedias for a man who signs off messages using the words “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins an exploration to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his close companion, life coach and ally during their regular game night which acts as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The beginning of this name appears lost in history. Perhaps the postal worker on one occasion consumed a snack very fast, or reacted to a tense moment by nervously peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a new energetic associate who happily suggests to kill the awful manager (the character) during the office fire drill. The swift movement audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

In other scenes during the opening installment of a series focused less on story and more by what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the actor), a worn-out individual who privately views, saves and reviews trivia competitions to amaze his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Shepherding viewers throughout this minor-key niceness is a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Yes, the star. Should you wonder, “certainly the use of a major Hollywood star contradicts the program's low-key style and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. Still, the actress performs admirably, and lines like “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: the right place being “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, pointing out the duck it loves.” This is a show that moves gently in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward into space, occasionally down at its feet, calmly assured that nothing is in the world as heartening as spending time with close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, slightly, and welcome it inside.