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In a quiet neighborhood of the city, a person stands outside his home, wearing a tank top and expressing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. More invisible,” says the protagonist, gazing up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and currently I believe unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest confidant, reflects on this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his robe flapping gently. “Superior to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers weary by the chaos and fast pace of modern television landscape, the show steps in similar to a cozy wrap and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part comedy created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on the novelist’s subtle story – casts a critical eye on contemporary society; peering skeptically above its spectacles toward anything related to disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. This show is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration to people happy to wander below the parapet. However. He (one more distinctly original portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He senses a growing “need to open the entryways within my world … a little.” The loss of his mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, an anonymous author, now finds himself reconsidering the choices that directed him to where he is (unattached; sporting facial hair; writing several children’s encyclopedias for a boss who ends correspondence using the words “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard begins himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Paul (the actor) functioning as his confidante, guide and partner during their regular gaming session functioning as both discussion (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of the nickname appears lost in mystery. Maybe Paul once ate some food unusually quickly, or answered to a tense moment by panic-peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts Shelley (the actress), a fresh lively associate who lightheartedly proposes to kill his terrible supervisor (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of this program driven less by plot and centered around what a modern audience may refer to as “vibes”, viewers encounter the older generation (the ever-wonderful the performer), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, saves and reviews trivia competitions to impress his devoted partner using his trivia skills.

Guiding the audience throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the presence of such a famous actor clashes with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a distraction?” you're right. However, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue for example “Leonard’s problem is his absence of a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling for now. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: the right place being “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, indicating 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 nothing is on Earth as cheering as spending time in the company of dear pals.

Throw open the portals within your world, slightly, and welcome it inside.