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In a calm neighborhood of the city, a man can be found outside his home, sporting a sleeveless jumper and voicing his concerns. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” says the protagonist, staring toward the stars. “One thing’s led to another and now I feel like without a change, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, his closest confidant, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his robe moving gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone tired by the chaos and fast pace of modern television terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul comes like a warm cover with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-episode comedy developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the author’s subtle 2019 novel – takes a dim view toward today's world; peering skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. This show rather, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute of those satisfied to amble along away from attention. However. The character (another distinctly original portrayal from the star) is uneasy. He notices a creeping “need to open the entryways of my life … a little.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now realizes reconsidering the paths that directed him to where he is (single; sporting facial hair; writing multiple children’s encyclopedias for an employer who ends messages saying “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, alongside his more outgoing Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, mentor and co-conspirator in a recurring gaming session which acts as debate (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. Maybe the postal worker previously devoured a snack in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh energetic co-worker who cheerily offers to get rid of the awful manager (the character) during the office fire drill. The swift movement audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the initial show of the comedy driven less by plot and centered around what a modern audience might call “vibes”, we meet the older generation (the brilliant the performer), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, records then replays daytime quiz shows to impress his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Leading us through all this minor-key niceness is a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the famous actress. Indeed, the star. In case you're considering, “undoubtedly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity contradicts the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases like “Leonard's challenge is his absence of an expression of discovery” help ensure that initial doubts fade though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.

Enough complaining at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is well-intentioned: which is “located on a seat alongside similar shows, showing its favourite duck.” It’s a series that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring toward the sky, at other times looking at its slippers, calmly assured that nothing is on Earth as cheering as passing time alongside close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, a little, and let it in.