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In a calm neighborhood of the city, a person stands on the pavement, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and voicing his concerns. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” states Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and currently I believe unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, ponders these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his bathrobe flapping with the wind. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For those weary by the chaos and fast pace of today’s TV terrain, this series steps in as a cozy wrap and warming mug of Ribena.

In line with its gentle leads, this comedy – a six-episode program developed by the writing duo, based on the novelist’s subtle 2019 novel – casts a critical eye at modern life; gazing critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything in the way of unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. This show on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage for those content to amble along out of the spotlight. But. He (a further uniquely quirky turn from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He notices an increasing “need to open the doors and windows of my life … a little.” The recent death of his parent has pulled the carpet away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now finds himself doubting the choices that directed him to his current situation (single; sporting facial hair; working on several children’s encyclopedias for a boss who concludes emails with the phrase “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the actor) serving as his close companion, mentor and ally in a recurring game night that serves both as discussion (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the nickname seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps Paul previously devoured some food in record time, or answered to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts Shelley (the performer), a recent spring-loaded colleague who happily suggests to kill the awful manager (the character) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound noticeable represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

In another part during the opening installment of this program focused less on story and centered around what the under-30s might call “mood”, we meet the older generation (the ever-wonderful the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, records then replays daytime quiz shows to dazzle his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Guiding us throughout this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, the star. Should you wonder, “certainly the presence of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you're right. Still, Roberts does a good job, and lines like “The issue with Leonard is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that first reservations yield if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “sitting on a park bench next to the Detectorists, showing the duck it loves.” It’s a series that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up toward the sky, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that no experience is in the world as cheering as passing time with good friends.

Throw open the portals in your existence, slightly, and welcome it inside.