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In a quiet area of the Irish capital, a person is standing in his driveway, wearing a vest and sharing his concerns. “I notice myself getting quieter. More invisible,” says the protagonist, looking into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and currently I believe if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, his only and only friend, ponders the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his robe swaying with the wind. “Superior to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For anyone weary by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of modern television landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives as a warm cover and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

Like its gentle leads, the series – a six-episode comedy created by the writing duo, adapted from Rónán Hession’s understated book – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking disapprovingly over its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything related to disturbances, sudden movements or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. The program is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage to people happy to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (one more distinctly original turn by the actor) is uneasy. He senses a growing “urge to throw open the openings in my existence … just a bit.” The loss of his mother has yanked the floor away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes reconsidering the decisions that directed him to where he is (single; defensively moustached; working on multiple educational volumes for a boss who ends emails using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard begins himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his trusted friend, life coach and partner during their regular gaming session functioning as both symposium (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. Perhaps the postal worker once ate some food very fast, or answered to a tense moment by hastily opening four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a new colleague (the performer), a new spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of the awful manager (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

Elsewhere in the first episode of the comedy not heavily plotted and centered around what the under-30s may refer to as “mood”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the actor), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to impress his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Guiding us throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “certainly the use of a major Hollywood star clashes with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a diversion?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating the duck it loves.” The program that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, at times staring into space, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is on Earth as uplifting as being with good friends.

Open the doors and windows within your world, a little, and allow it entry.