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In a quiet suburb of the city, a man stands on the pavement, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “I feel myself getting quieter. More invisible,” remarks Leonard, looking into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and currently it seems if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, ponders these words. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his robe flapping with the wind. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For those exhausted by the bluster and fast pace of current streaming offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul comes similar to a warm cover and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

In line with its gentle leads, this comedy – a six-part program written by the writing duo, inspired by the novelist’s quiet book – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking skeptically above its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything related to loud sounds, quick actions or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. The program rather, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute for those satisfied to wander out of the spotlight. However. He (a further distinctly original performance by the actor) is unsettled. He senses a creeping “desire to unlock the openings of my life … just a bit.” The recent death of his mother has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now realizes doubting the choices that have brought him to where he is (single; with a protective mustache; creating a range of educational volumes for a boss who signs off emails with the phrase “see you later”).

And so Leonard begins an exploration to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his close companion, life coach and partner during their regular board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The source of this name appears lost in history. Perhaps Paul previously devoured some food in record time, or answered to a tense moment by hastily opening four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts a new colleague (the performer), a fresh energetic colleague who happily suggests to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound noticeable represents Leonard's calm life undergoing a shake-up.

Elsewhere in the initial show of the comedy focused less on story and more on what younger viewers may refer to as “vibes”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the performer), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Leading the audience amidst this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of a big-name celebrity contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as a diversion?” you're right. However, the actress performs admirably, and lines like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts give way if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism currently. The series' spirit has good intentions: the right place being “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out the duck it loves.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, occasionally down toward the ground, serenely certain that no experience is on Earth as cheering as passing time alongside close companions.

Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and allow it entry.