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In a peaceful suburb of the Irish capital, a man stands on the pavement, sporting a sleeveless jumper and voicing his feelings. “It seems like my voice is fading. Harder to see,” remarks the main character, staring toward the stars. “One thing’s led to another and at this point it seems if I don’t do something, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his only confidant, considers the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his bathrobe moving gently. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For anyone tired by the chaos and fast pace of today’s TV terrain, this series steps in like a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

Similar to its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode show written by the writing duo, inspired by the novelist’s subtle story – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking disapprovingly over its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything that involves unnecessary noise, quick actions or – heaven forfend – too much drive. This show is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute of those content to wander away from attention. But. The character (another sublimely idiosyncratic turn from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He feels a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways in my existence … just a bit.” The passing of his parent has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now finds himself reconsidering the paths that directed him to this point (unattached; defensively moustached; working on several children’s encyclopedias for a man who concludes messages saying “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins on a journey for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder Paul (the actor) serving as his trusted friend, guide and partner during their regular board games evening functioning as both discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of the nickname appears lost to the mists of time. Perhaps he once ate a snack very fast, or responded to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels a new colleague (the actress), a recent energetic colleague who happily suggests to get rid of the awful manager (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of this program focused less on story and centered around what younger viewers could describe as “atmosphere”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, records then replays daytime quiz shows to dazzle his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Guiding us amidst this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the use of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just an interruption?” you would be correct. Still, the actress performs admirably, and phrases for example “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that first reservations fade if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The show's core is in the right place: the right place being “located on a seat alongside similar shows, pointing out the duck it loves.” The program that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up into space, at other times looking at its feet, calmly assured that no experience is on Earth as cheering as spending time in the company of close companions.

Throw open the portals in your existence, slightly, and let it in.