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In a quiet area of the city, a man can be found in his driveway, sporting a tank top and sharing his thoughts. “I notice myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” states the protagonist, gazing into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I feel like unless I take action, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best companion, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his robe moving gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone tired by the bluster and fast pace of current streaming landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul comes as a cozy wrap and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the author’s understated 2019 novel – takes a dim view on contemporary society; gazing disapprovingly through its eyewear at anything related to disturbances, quick actions or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. This show rather, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute of those happy to wander away from attention. And yet. He (a further sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal by the actor) feels restless. He feels a growing “urge to throw open the openings in my existence … slightly.” The recent death of his parent has yanked the floor from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now finds himself reconsidering the paths that directed him to his current situation (alone; with a protective mustache; working on several children’s encyclopedias for a boss who signs off messages saying “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard starts an exploration for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder Paul (the performer) serving as his confidante, guide and partner in a weekly board games evening that serves both as discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. Maybe the postal worker on one occasion consumed some food very fast, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh lively colleague who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise audible is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

Elsewhere in the initial show of a series not heavily plotted and centered around what younger viewers may refer to as “mood”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, records then replays daytime quiz shows to impress his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading the audience through all this minor-key niceness is a narrator that sounds very much like – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the use of such a famous actor clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a diversion?” you're right. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases like “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is in life as uplifting as being with dear pals.

Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and welcome it inside.