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In a peaceful area of the Irish capital, a man can be found on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” states Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and at this point I believe unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, his only companion, reflects on this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his bathrobe swaying with the wind. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For viewers tired by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of current streaming landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives like a cozy wrap with a hot drink of Ribena.

In line with its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part comedy created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the novelist’s subtle book – casts a critical eye at modern life; gazing skeptically above its eyewear toward anything that involves disturbances, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. The series on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration for those happy to wander out of the spotlight. But. The character (one more uniquely quirky turn by the actor) feels restless. He feels a growing “urge to throw open the openings in my existence … slightly.” The recent death of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now finds himself reconsidering the decisions that have brought him to his current situation (unattached; with a protective mustache; creating several educational volumes for a boss who ends correspondence with the phrase “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard begins himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, alongside his more outgoing Paul (the actor) acting as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator during their regular game night which acts as debate (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of the moniker seems forgotten to the mists of time. It could be that the postal worker once ate some food unusually quickly, or answered to a tense moment by nervously peeling several snacks with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes a vibrant character (the performer), a recent lively associate who happily suggests to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the initial show of a series not heavily plotted and more by what a modern audience may refer to as “atmosphere”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the actor), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, records then replays television game programs to impress his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Leading the audience amidst this minor-key niceness is a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Truly, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the presence of such a famous actor clashes with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” that's accurate. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases for example “The issue with Leonard is his absence of a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that early misgivings give way if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

Enough complaining for now. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: that place is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing the duck it loves.” This is a show that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward into space, at other times looking toward the ground, serenely certain that no experience is in life as heartening as being with close companions.

Unlock the entryways of your life, a little, and welcome it inside.