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In a peaceful suburb of the city, an individual stands in his driveway, sporting a tank top and sharing his feelings. “I feel myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” states the protagonist, gazing up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and currently I feel like unless I take action, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his only confidant, considers the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his bathrobe swaying gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers weary by the noise and rat-tat-tat of modern television terrain, the show comes like a warm cover and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

In line with its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a half-dozen installment program written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – takes a dim view on contemporary society; peering disapprovingly through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves disturbances, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – too much drive. This show on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a subtle homage of those satisfied to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. Leonard (one more distinctly original performance from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He feels an increasing “desire to unlock the openings of my life … a little.” The passing of his mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and this young man, a writer for others, now feels reconsidering the decisions which led him to this point (single; sporting facial hair; creating multiple children’s encyclopedias for an employer who concludes emails using the words “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard begins himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his confidante, guide and partner during their regular board games evening that serves both as debate (“Does the pool feel warm because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of the moniker appears lost to the mists of time. It could be that Paul previously devoured a snack unusually quickly, or reacted to an awkward situation by hastily opening several snacks by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes Shelley (the actress), a recent spring-loaded colleague who happily suggests to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the actor) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In other scenes during the opening installment of the comedy not heavily plotted and more on what a modern audience could describe as “vibes”, viewers encounter the older generation (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches television game programs to amaze his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Guiding the audience throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the star. Should you wonder, “certainly the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a distraction?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue such as “The issue with Leonard is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings yield though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism at this time. The show's core is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring into space, occasionally down at its feet, calmly assured that there is nothing on Earth as uplifting as spending time in the company of close companions.

Unlock the entryways within your world, a little, and welcome it inside.