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In a quiet neighborhood of the city, a man stands in his driveway, dressed in a vest and expressing his feelings. “I notice my voice is fading. More invisible,” says Leonard, looking into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and currently I believe unless I take action, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his closest companion, considers the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his robe moving in the breeze. “Superior to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For those weary by the bluster and constant stimulation of modern television terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives like a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its gentle leads, the series – a half-dozen installment program created by its authors, adapted from the author’s understated 2019 novel – takes a dim view at modern life; gazing critically through its eyewear on everything that involves unnecessary noise, quick actions or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. This show rather, a tribute to quiet people; a subtle homage for those content to amble along away from attention. But. He (another uniquely quirky portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He senses a growing “need to open the openings of my life … a little.” The loss of his mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes questioning the paths that have brought him to this point (alone; with a protective mustache; writing several kids' reference books for a boss who concludes emails with the phrase “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins an exploration for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (the actor) functioning as his close companion, mentor and co-conspirator in a recurring board games evening which acts as discussion (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The beginning of this name is shrouded in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker previously devoured a snack unusually quickly, or reacted to a tense moment by hastily opening several snacks with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh lively co-worker who happily suggests to get rid of the awful manager (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the first episode of a series not heavily plotted and centered around what younger viewers could describe as “vibes”, we are introduced to the older generation (the brilliant the actor), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to dazzle his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Shepherding us amidst this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. Should you wonder, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just an interruption?” you're right. Still, Roberts does a good job, and phrases such as “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: which is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, indicating the duck it loves.” It’s a series that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring into space, occasionally down toward the ground, calmly assured that no experience is in life as cheering as spending time in the company of dear pals.

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