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In a quiet neighborhood of Dublin, a person is standing on the pavement, dressed in a tank top and expressing his thoughts. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” remarks the protagonist, staring up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and at this point I feel like unless I take action, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Paul, his only companion, ponders these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his dressing gown swaying in the breeze. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For those tired by the chaos and rat-tat-tat of modern television landscape, Leonard and Hungry Paul arrives similar to a warm cover and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

In line with its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment program written by its authors, adapted from the author’s quiet book – casts a critical eye toward today's world; gazing skeptically above its eyewear toward anything that involves disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. The program on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration for those content to wander below the parapet. But. He (one more sublimely idiosyncratic performance from the star) feels restless. He senses an increasing “urge to throw open the doors and windows in my existence … a little.” The loss of his mother has whisked the rug out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now feels questioning the choices that have brought him to his current situation (unattached; defensively moustached; creating several kids' reference books for a boss who signs off emails using the words “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard starts himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the performer) serving as his close companion, guide and partner in a recurring gaming session functioning as both symposium (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The origin of the nickname is shrouded in history. Perhaps he on one occasion consumed a snack in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling some food items by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a new colleague (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded colleague who happily suggests to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part in the initial show of this program driven less by plot and centered around what younger viewers may refer to as “vibes”, viewers encounter Paul's father (the consistently great the performer), a tired character who privately views, tapes and rewatches television game programs to dazzle his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Shepherding the audience throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Indeed, Julia Roberts. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the use of a major Hollywood star clashes with the show's modest approach and starts off as just a distraction?” you're right. However, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism currently. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: which is “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, pointing out its preferred bird.” The program that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up into space, sometimes downward toward the ground, quietly confident that no experience is in the world as uplifting as being in the company of dear pals.

Unlock the entryways within your world, just a bit, and allow it entry.