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In a quiet area of the city, a man is standing on the pavement, sporting a vest and sharing his feelings. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” states the main character, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point it seems without a change, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest confidant, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his bathrobe swaying gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone weary by the noise and rat-tat-tat of modern television offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives as a cozy wrap and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

In line with its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-episode program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the novelist’s quiet story – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking critically over its eyewear toward anything that involves disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The program is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute for those happy to pootle around out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (another distinctly original performance by the actor) feels restless. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the openings in my existence … just a bit.” The passing of his beloved mother has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now realizes doubting the paths that have brought him to this point (alone; sporting facial hair; writing a range of children’s encyclopedias for an employer who signs off correspondence using the words “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard begins an exploration to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Paul (the performer) acting as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator in a weekly game night functioning as both symposium (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do children urinate as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The beginning of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. Perhaps Paul on one occasion consumed a sandwich unusually quickly, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening several snacks using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels Shelley (the actress), a new energetic co-worker who happily suggests to kill his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the initial show of this program focused less on story and centered around what a modern audience might call “vibes”, we meet Paul's father (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, saves and reviews trivia competitions to dazzle his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Guiding viewers amidst this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and truly is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of such a famous actor clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as an interruption?” that's accurate. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines for example “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks an expression of discovery” help ensure that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: which is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its favourite duck.” This is a show that moves gently in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up into space, occasionally down toward the ground, calmly assured that nothing is in the world as cheering as being alongside close companions.

Throw open the portals within your world, slightly, and welcome it inside.