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In a quiet neighborhood of the city, an individual stands in his driveway, sporting a sleeveless jumper and sharing his thoughts. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” says Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and now I believe unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his only confidant, considers the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his dressing gown moving in the breeze. “Superior to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For those tired by the noise and fast pace of modern television landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Like its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a half-dozen installment program written by its authors, adapted from the novelist’s quiet 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; peering critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything related to disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The series on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration to people content to amble along away from attention. But. He (one more uniquely quirky portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He senses an increasing “urge to throw open the openings within my world … a little.” The loss of his mother has pulled the carpet out from under him and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now feels doubting the decisions that directed him to this point (single; sporting facial hair; creating several educational volumes for a man who ends messages using the words “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard launches on a journey for personal satisfaction, with the slightly bolder Paul (the actor) serving as his close companion, life coach and ally during their regular board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The beginning of the moniker is shrouded in mystery. Maybe he once ate a snack in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening several snacks using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes Shelley (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the initial show of this program focused less on story and centered around what younger viewers could describe as “mood”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches television game programs to amaze his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Guiding viewers amidst this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Truly, the star. Should you wonder, “surely the presence of a big-name celebrity contradicts the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue for example “Leonard’s problem is the missing an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that first reservations give way though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing the duck it loves.” It’s a series that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up at the stars, occasionally down at its slippers, calmly assured that no experience is in the world as heartening as spending time with close companions.

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