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In a calm area of the Irish capital, an individual stands outside his home, dressed in a tank top and expressing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. More invisible,” states the main character, looking toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and currently it seems unless I take action, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, considers the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his bathrobe swaying with the wind. “Better than striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”

For those tired by the chaos and fast pace of today’s TV terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in as a warm cover and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.

Like its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-episode comedy created by its authors, based on Rónán Hession’s understated book – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking critically above its spectacles at anything that involves disturbances, quick actions or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The series is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a subtle homage to people satisfied to amble along below the parapet. And yet. He (a further sublimely idiosyncratic performance from the star) feels restless. He notices an increasing “desire to unlock the entryways of my life … just a bit.” The passing of his mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and this young man, a ghost writer, now feels reconsidering the paths that directed him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; creating several educational volumes for a man who concludes emails with the phrase “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard launches on a journey to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (the performer) functioning as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator in a weekly board games evening functioning as both discussion (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The beginning of this name is shrouded to the mists of time. Perhaps the postal worker once ate a sandwich unusually quickly, or responded to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling some food items with his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (the performer), a new spring-loaded co-worker who happily suggests to eliminate the awful manager (the actor) at a fire practice. The rushing noise noticeable represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

In another part during the opening installment of a series focused less on story and more by what a modern audience may refer to as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the performer), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, records then replays trivia competitions to amaze his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Guiding us amidst this subtle warmth is a narrator that sounds very much like – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the star. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of such a famous actor contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue for example “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that first reservations give way if not quite to appreciation, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: that place is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring at the stars, at other times looking toward the ground, quietly confident that there is nothing on Earth as uplifting as spending time in the company of dear pals.

Unlock the entryways within your world, slightly, and let it in.