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In a calm area of the Irish capital, a person can be found in his driveway, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his thoughts. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” remarks the main character, gazing toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and now it seems unless I take action, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his dressing gown moving gently. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For those weary by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives as a warm cover with a hot drink of Ribena.

Like its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part show developed by the writing duo, inspired by the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing disapprovingly above its spectacles at anything in the way of disturbances, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The series on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to amble along out of the spotlight. However. The character (a further distinctly original portrayal from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He notices a creeping “desire to unlock the doors and windows in my existence … slightly.” The loss of his parent has pulled the carpet away from his feet and Leonard, an anonymous author, now feels reconsidering the decisions which led him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; writing several kids' reference books for a boss who concludes correspondence using the words “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the actor) serving as his close companion, guide and partner during their regular gaming session that serves both as discussion (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of this name seems forgotten to the mists of time. Maybe Paul previously devoured a sandwich unusually quickly, or reacted to an awkward situation by nervously peeling some food items using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to kill the awful manager (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the first episode of the comedy focused less on story and more on what the under-30s could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to the older generation (the consistently great the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, records then replays daytime quiz shows to dazzle his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Shepherding the audience throughout this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “certainly the presence of a major Hollywood star contradicts the show's modest approach and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and phrases for example “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that early misgivings fade though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: that place is “sitting on a park bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up at the stars, at other times looking at its slippers, quietly confident that nothing is in life as uplifting as spending time alongside dear pals.

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