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In a peaceful suburb of the Irish capital, an individual can be found in his driveway, sporting a vest and expressing his feelings. “I notice my voice is fading. Harder to see,” states Leonard, gazing up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and now it seems if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his only companion, ponders the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his robe flapping with the wind. “Superior to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone exhausted by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of current streaming landscape, this series arrives as a cozy wrap with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a six-episode show developed by its authors, inspired by the author’s quiet 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; peering disapprovingly over its spectacles toward anything related to unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – too much drive. The program rather, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage for those content to pootle around away from attention. But. The character (a further uniquely quirky turn from the star) feels restless. He notices an increasing “desire to unlock the entryways of my life … just a bit.” The loss of his parent has whisked the rug away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now feels questioning the paths that directed him to where he is (alone; sporting facial hair; writing multiple educational volumes for a man who signs off messages using the words “see you later”).

Thus Leonard starts himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, with the slightly bolder Paul (the performer) acting as his close companion, guide and partner in a recurring game night functioning as both debate (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The beginning of this name is shrouded in mystery. Maybe he once ate some food very fast, or reacted to an awkward situation by panic-peeling some food items with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of the awful manager (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise audible is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part in the first episode of the comedy driven less by plot and centered around what the under-30s could describe as “atmosphere”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches television game programs to amaze his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Leading the audience throughout this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of a big-name celebrity contradicts the show's modest approach and starts off as just an interruption?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that first reservations yield though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: which is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing its preferred bird.” This is a show that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, sometimes downward at its slippers, quietly confident that nothing is on Earth as heartening as passing time with close companions.

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