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In a quiet neighborhood of the city, an individual stands on the pavement, sporting a tank top and voicing his feelings. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” states Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point I believe if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his only companion, reflects on this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his robe moving gently. “Superior to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers tired by the noise and fast pace of modern television terrain, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in as a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

In line with its harmless protagonists, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part show developed by the writing duo, based on the author’s understated story – looks disapprovingly at modern life; looking critically over its spectacles toward anything that involves disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. The series on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration of those content to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (another sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He notices a growing “need to open the entryways within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and Leonard, a writer for others, now finds himself questioning the paths that directed him to where he is (unattached; sporting facial hair; creating multiple educational volumes for a boss who signs off emails saying “see you later”).

And so Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) serving as his trusted friend, mentor and partner in a weekly game night which acts as debate (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The beginning of the moniker appears lost in history. Maybe Paul previously devoured some food unusually quickly, or answered to a tense moment by panic-peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes a vibrant character (the performer), a fresh lively co-worker who happily suggests to kill his terrible supervisor (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the first episode of the comedy driven less by plot and more on what younger viewers could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, records then replays daytime quiz shows to dazzle his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Guiding viewers through all this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. In case you're considering, “surely the presence of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you're right. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases like “Leonard’s problem is the missing an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The series' spirit is in the right place: the right place being “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing the duck it loves.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, at times staring at the stars, at other times looking at its feet, serenely certain that there is nothing in the world as heartening as passing time with good friends.

Unlock the entryways within your world, a little, and welcome it inside.