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In a peaceful neighborhood of the city, an individual is standing in his driveway, wearing a tank top and voicing his concerns. “I feel my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” remarks Leonard, staring into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and currently it seems without a change, I will continue in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, considers the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his dressing gown flapping in the breeze. “Better than trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For anyone exhausted by the noise and fast pace of current streaming offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives like a warm cover and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a six-episode program written by the writing duo, adapted from the novelist’s quiet book – casts a critical eye at modern life; peering critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything related to disturbances, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – too much drive. The program rather, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration of those happy to pootle around out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (a further distinctly original turn from the star) is unsettled. He feels a growing “urge to throw open the openings of my life … a little.” The recent death of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet out from under him and this young man, a ghost writer, now realizes doubting the decisions that have brought him to this point (unattached; defensively moustached; creating a range of children’s encyclopedias for a boss who concludes correspondence saying “see you later”).

Thus Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his confidante, mentor and partner in a weekly gaming session functioning as both discussion (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The beginning of this name is shrouded to the mists of time. Maybe he once ate a snack very fast, or responded to an awkward situation by nervously peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (the performer), a new lively co-worker who happily suggests to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement audible represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

In other scenes in the initial show of this program not heavily plotted and more on what younger viewers could describe as “vibes”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the brilliant the actor), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his devoted partner using his trivia skills.

Shepherding the audience amidst this gentle kindness there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Truly, the star. Should you wonder, “surely the use of such a famous actor contradicts the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a diversion?” you're right. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that first reservations yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: the right place being “located on a seat alongside similar shows, indicating the duck it loves.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, occasionally down toward the ground, calmly assured that nothing is in the world as cheering as spending time alongside good friends.

Unlock the entryways within your world, just a bit, and let it in.