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In a quiet area of the city, an individual is standing in his driveway, wearing a vest and expressing his concerns. “It seems like my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” says the main character, looking into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and at this point I feel like without a change, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest confidant, reflects on these words. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his robe moving with the wind. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For those tired by the bluster and fast pace of modern television terrain, the show steps in as a foil blanket and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Like its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from Rónán Hession’s subtle story – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; gazing critically above its spectacles toward anything in the way of disturbances, sudden movements or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. The program rather, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute of those happy to pootle around below the parapet. And yet. Leonard (another sublimely idiosyncratic turn from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He feels a growing “need to open the openings within my world … a little.” The loss of his parent has pulled the carpet out from under him and Leonard, a writer for others, now realizes doubting the paths which led him to his current situation (alone; with a protective mustache; writing a range of educational volumes for an employer who signs off emails using the words “goodbye for now”).

And so Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the actor) functioning as his trusted friend, mentor and ally during their regular game night which acts as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The origin of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. It could be that he on one occasion consumed a snack very fast, or reacted to an awkward situation by nervously peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels Shelley (the actress), a fresh energetic co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

Elsewhere in the initial show of the comedy not heavily plotted and centered around what the under-30s may refer to as “mood”, we meet Paul's father (the brilliant the actor), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays trivia competitions to dazzle his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Leading us through all this gentle kindness is a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, the star. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the use of a big-name celebrity contradicts the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and lines for example “The issue with Leonard is the missing a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that first reservations give way if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: that place is “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, showing its preferred bird.” This is a show that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that nothing is in the world as heartening as being in the company of dear pals.

Throw open the portals within your world, just a bit, and allow it entry.