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In a quiet suburb of the Irish capital, an individual is standing on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and voicing his thoughts. “I feel myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” states the main character, staring into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and now it seems if I don’t do something, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, his closest and only friend, reflects on the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his dressing gown moving with the wind. “Superior to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone exhausted by the chaos and fast pace of modern television terrain, the show arrives similar to a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

In line with its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a half-dozen installment comedy written by the writing duo, adapted from Rónán Hession’s quiet book – casts a critical eye at modern life; gazing disapprovingly over its eyewear on everything in the way of loud sounds, sudden movements or – perish the thought – too much drive. The series is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute for those content to wander below the parapet. However. He (a further distinctly original portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He feels a growing “need to open the openings within my world … a little.” The loss of his parent has whisked the rug out from under him and this young man, a writer for others, now feels doubting the decisions that directed him to this point (single; defensively moustached; writing several children’s encyclopedias for a man who concludes messages using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his trusted friend, life coach and ally in a weekly game night functioning as both debate (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of the moniker appears lost in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker once ate a sandwich very fast, or responded to a tense moment by panic-peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence cartwheels a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a new spring-loaded colleague who happily suggests to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. The rushing noise audible is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In another part in the first episode of a series not heavily plotted and centered around what younger viewers could describe as “atmosphere”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the actor), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, records then replays trivia competitions to dazzle his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading the audience amidst this gentle kindness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Yes, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “certainly the presence of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a diversion?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases such as “Leonard’s problem is the missing an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that early misgivings yield if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The show's core is in the right place: which is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, showing its favourite duck.” This is a show that moves gently in comfortable attire, at times staring at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that there is nothing in the world as cheering as being in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows of your life, a little, and allow it entry.