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In a peaceful area of the Irish capital, a man can be found outside his home, sporting a tank top and voicing his concerns. “It seems like my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” says Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and currently I feel like unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, ponders these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his bathrobe flapping with the wind. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers tired by the bluster and fast pace of modern television landscape, the show steps in like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

In line with its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a half-dozen installment comedy written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; peering critically over its eyewear toward anything related to loud sounds, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. This show on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage of those happy to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. He (a further sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet from under his slippers and this young man, a ghost writer, now finds himself doubting the decisions that have brought him to where he is (unattached; sporting facial hair; creating a range of children’s encyclopedias for a man who ends correspondence saying “goodbye for now”).

And so Leonard launches himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (the actor) serving as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator in a recurring game night which acts as discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. Maybe Paul once ate some food very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by nervously peeling four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a vibrant character (the performer), a fresh energetic associate who happily suggests to eliminate his terrible supervisor (the character) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of this program not heavily plotted and centered around what a modern audience could describe as “atmosphere”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the actor), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays daytime quiz shows to dazzle his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Shepherding viewers throughout this gentle kindness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. In case you're considering, “certainly the presence of a major Hollywood star contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a distraction?” you're right. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and phrases for example “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” help ensure that early misgivings fade if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is well-intentioned: which is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, at other times looking at its slippers, quietly confident that no experience is in the world as cheering as passing time with dear pals.

Open the doors and windows within your world, a little, and let it in.