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In a quiet neighborhood of the city, a man is standing on the pavement, dressed in a tank top and expressing his concerns. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” says Leonard, gazing into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and currently I feel like if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, his closest companion, considers the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his dressing gown moving with the wind. “Superior to striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”

For viewers exhausted by the chaos and fast pace of current streaming offerings, the show steps in like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

Like its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part comedy written by its authors, based on the novelist’s quiet book – casts a critical eye on contemporary society; gazing critically above its eyewear at anything related to loud sounds, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – too much drive. The series rather, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration of those happy to amble along below the parapet. However. The character (another uniquely quirky portrayal from the star) is unsettled. He feels a creeping “need to open the doors and windows within my world … just a bit.” The recent death of his mother has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now finds himself reconsidering the choices that have brought him to this point (alone; with a protective mustache; creating several children’s encyclopedias for an employer who ends correspondence using the words “goodbye for now”).

And so Leonard begins himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) functioning as his confidante, guide and partner during their regular gaming session which acts as symposium (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The beginning of this name is shrouded in mystery. Maybe Paul previously devoured a snack very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by nervously peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a new colleague (the performer), a new spring-loaded co-worker who cheerily offers to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part during the opening installment of a series not heavily plotted and centered around what the under-30s may refer to as “vibes”, we meet the older generation (the ever-wonderful the performer), a tired character who privately views, records then replays daytime quiz shows to impress his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading viewers throughout this subtle warmth there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “certainly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. However, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue such as “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism at this time. The show's core has good intentions: that place is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing its preferred bird.” It’s a series that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up at the stars, occasionally down at its feet, calmly assured that there is nothing in the world as cheering as passing time in the company of dear pals.

Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and welcome it inside.