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In a peaceful area of the city, an individual is standing outside his home, wearing a vest and expressing his feelings. “I feel my voice is fading. More invisible,” remarks Leonard, staring toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and now I feel like unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, his only and only friend, considers the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his robe moving with the wind. “Better than attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone exhausted by the noise and rat-tat-tat of today’s TV landscape, this series arrives as a foil blanket with a hot drink of Ribena.

Like its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode comedy created by the writing duo, based on the author’s quiet 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing critically above its eyewear on everything in the way of disturbances, quick actions or – heaven forfend – too much drive. This show rather, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration of those happy to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (one more sublimely idiosyncratic turn from the star) is uneasy. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … slightly.” The passing of his mother has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now realizes doubting the decisions which led him to his current situation (alone; defensively moustached; creating a range of educational volumes for a boss who concludes messages using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard launches on a journey to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) functioning as his close companion, mentor and co-conspirator during their regular gaming session which acts as symposium (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of this name is shrouded in mystery. Perhaps Paul once ate a sandwich unusually quickly, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening several snacks using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts Shelley (the actress), a new lively co-worker who happily suggests to get rid of the awful manager (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the first episode of this program driven less by plot and centered around what the under-30s could describe as “atmosphere”, we meet the older generation (the brilliant the actor), a worn-out individual who privately views, records then replays trivia competitions to dazzle his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Shepherding us amidst this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the star. Should you wonder, “certainly the inclusion of such a famous actor clashes with the show's modest approach and starts off as just an interruption?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue such as “The issue with Leonard is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism currently. The show's core is well-intentioned: the right place being “sitting on a park bench next to the Detectorists, showing the duck it loves.” The program that moves gently in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that no experience is in life as heartening as passing time in the company of dear pals.

Throw open the portals within your world, just a bit, and welcome it inside.