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In a quiet area of the city, an individual stands on the pavement, dressed in a vest and expressing his thoughts. “I notice my voice is fading. More invisible,” remarks Leonard, staring toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and currently it seems unless I take action, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, reflects on the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his robe flapping in the breeze. “Better than striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”

For those tired by the chaos and rat-tat-tat of today’s TV terrain, the show comes like a warm cover with a hot drink of a sweet cordial.

In line with its gentle leads, this comedy – a six-episode comedy created by its authors, adapted from the novelist’s subtle story – takes a dim view on contemporary society; gazing critically over its spectacles toward anything in the way of unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. This show on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage of those happy to pootle around below the parapet. But. Leonard (one more uniquely quirky portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He feels a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … slightly.” The loss of his beloved mother has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now realizes questioning the paths which led him to his current situation (single; sporting facial hair; writing multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who concludes messages saying “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard launches on a journey for personal satisfaction, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (the performer) serving as his close companion, mentor and ally in a weekly gaming session which acts as debate (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The source of the moniker is shrouded to the mists of time. It could be that the postal worker once ate a snack in record time, or reacted to a tense moment by panic-peeling some food items by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels Shelley (the actress), a new spring-loaded colleague who cheerily offers to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound noticeable represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the initial show of the comedy focused less on story and more by what a modern audience might call “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the performer), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays television game programs to amaze his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Shepherding viewers through all this minor-key niceness is a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. If you are thinking, “certainly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a distraction?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue such as “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that first reservations fade if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: that place is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, indicating the duck it loves.” This is a show that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward into space, occasionally down at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is on Earth as uplifting as spending time with close companions.

Throw open the portals in your existence, slightly, and welcome it inside.