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In a quiet area of Dublin, a man can be found on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his thoughts. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” states Leonard, gazing into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and at this point I feel like unless I take action, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” Paul, Leonard’s best companion, considers this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his dressing gown swaying gently. “Superior to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For anyone exhausted by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives like a warm cover and warming mug of Ribena.

In line with its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-part show created by the writing duo, based on Rónán Hession’s understated book – casts a critical eye at modern life; looking critically over its spectacles at anything in the way of loud sounds, quick actions or – heaven forfend – too much drive. The series is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration to people content to amble along away from attention. But. Leonard (another sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal by the actor) feels restless. He senses a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … just a bit.” The recent death of his parent has yanked the floor away from his feet and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now realizes reconsidering the decisions which led him to where he is (single; sporting facial hair; working on a range of educational volumes for a boss who concludes messages using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard begins on a journey to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) acting as his trusted friend, life coach and co-conspirator in a recurring board games evening functioning as both symposium (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the moniker appears lost to the mists of time. Maybe Paul once ate some food unusually quickly, or answered to an awkward situation by hastily opening four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a new colleague (the actress), a new spring-loaded associate who lightheartedly proposes to kill the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In another part during the opening installment of this program not heavily plotted and centered around what a modern audience may refer to as “vibes”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches television game programs to dazzle his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Shepherding us amidst this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Indeed, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “surely the presence of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a distraction?” you would be correct. Still, Roberts does a good job, and phrases such as “The issue with Leonard is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining for now. The show's core has good intentions: which is “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, indicating its preferred bird.” It’s a series that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, quietly confident that no experience is in life as heartening as being in the company of dear pals.

Throw open the portals in your existence, slightly, and allow it entry.