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In a peaceful area of the city, a person can be found outside his home, sporting a tank top and expressing his feelings. “I notice my voice is fading. Harder to see,” remarks the main character, looking toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and at this point I believe unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his only and only friend, ponders this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his robe flapping gently. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For those tired by the noise and rat-tat-tat of current streaming offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives like a cozy wrap and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-episode program developed by its authors, based on the novelist’s quiet book – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking skeptically over its spectacles on everything related to loud sounds, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. The program is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute for those happy to amble along below the parapet. But. Leonard (another uniquely quirky performance from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He senses an increasing “need to open the doors and windows in my existence … a little.” The passing of his beloved mother has yanked the floor out from under him and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now feels doubting the paths that have brought him to this point (alone; sporting facial hair; writing multiple kids' reference books for an employer who ends emails saying “see you later”).

And so Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, mentor and ally in a recurring game night which acts as debate (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of this name is shrouded in mystery. It could be that Paul previously devoured a snack very fast, or responded to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a new lively associate who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate the awful manager (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise you can hear represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of the comedy driven less by plot and centered around what younger viewers might call “vibes”, viewers encounter the older generation (the brilliant the performer), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, saves and reviews trivia competitions to dazzle his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Guiding us amidst this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and truly is – the famous actress. Indeed, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a diversion?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines like “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that early misgivings give way if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: that place is “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” The program that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up into space, at other times looking toward the ground, quietly confident that no experience is in life as heartening as passing time alongside dear pals.

Unlock the entryways of your life, a little, and allow it entry.