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In a calm suburb of the Irish capital, a person stands outside his home, wearing a tank top and expressing his feelings. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” remarks Leonard, looking toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and at this point it seems if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his only and only friend, reflects on this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his robe swaying in the breeze. “Preferable to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For those weary by the chaos and fast pace of modern television landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul comes like a warm cover and warming mug of Ribena.

Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a six-part show developed by its authors, based on the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; looking disapprovingly through its eyewear at anything that involves disturbances, quick actions or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The program is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage to people satisfied to wander out of the spotlight. But. He (a further uniquely quirky performance from Alex Lawther) feels restless. He feels an increasing “desire to unlock the entryways within my world … just a bit.” The recent death of his mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, a writer for others, now finds himself reconsidering the choices that directed him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; working on a range of kids' reference books for a boss who signs off messages with the phrase “see you later”).

Thus Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his trusted friend, guide and partner during their regular board games evening which acts as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The beginning of the nickname seems forgotten in history. It could be that the postal worker once ate some food unusually quickly, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes Shelley (the actress), a recent spring-loaded associate who happily suggests to eliminate his terrible supervisor (the actor) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the first episode of a series driven less by plot and more by what the under-30s might call “mood”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the actor), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches television game programs to amaze his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading viewers throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the famous actress. Truly, the star. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of a major Hollywood star clashes with the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and lines for example “Leonard’s problem is the missing an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: which is “located on a seat alongside similar shows, indicating its favourite duck.” It’s a series that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, at times staring at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that there is nothing in life as heartening as spending time with good friends.

Unlock the entryways of your life, a little, and allow it entry.