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In a quiet suburb of the city, a person is standing in his driveway, dressed in a tank top and sharing his thoughts. “I notice myself getting quieter. More invisible,” remarks the main character, looking up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and now I believe without a change, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best companion, ponders this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his dressing gown moving with the wind. “Better than trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For those exhausted by the bluster and fast pace of modern television offerings, this series steps in similar to a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

In line with its quiet characters, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-part program written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing disapprovingly through its spectacles on everything related to unnecessary noise, quick actions or – perish the thought – too much drive. The series is, instead, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration of those happy to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (one more uniquely quirky turn from the star) feels restless. He senses an increasing “urge to throw open the openings of my life … slightly.” The passing of his beloved mother has yanked the floor out from under him and Leonard, a writer for others, now feels doubting the paths which led him to where he is (unattached; defensively moustached; writing multiple educational volumes for an employer who signs off emails saying “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his trusted friend, guide and co-conspirator during their regular game night functioning as both symposium (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The source of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. Maybe Paul previously devoured some food very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded colleague who happily suggests to eliminate the awful manager (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound noticeable represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of this program not heavily plotted and more by what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we are introduced to the older generation (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who covertly observes, saves and reviews television game programs to impress his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading viewers throughout this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “certainly the presence of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you would be correct. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and lines for example “Leonard's challenge is his absence of an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts fade though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The show's core is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” The program that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring at the stars, at other times looking toward the ground, serenely certain that nothing is in life as cheering as being alongside good friends.

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