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In a peaceful neighborhood of Dublin, a person can be found outside his home, sporting a tank top and expressing his concerns. “It seems like myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” remarks the main character, looking toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and at this point it seems if I don’t do something, I will continue in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his closest confidant, considers these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his dressing gown moving with the wind. “Preferable to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone weary by the noise and rat-tat-tat of today’s TV landscape, the show comes as a warm cover and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment show created by the writing duo, adapted from the author’s quiet book – casts a critical eye at modern life; gazing disapprovingly over its eyewear at anything related to disturbances, quick actions or – perish the thought – too much drive. The program is, instead, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute to people happy to wander out of the spotlight. But. Leonard (a further distinctly original performance from the star) feels restless. He feels an increasing “desire to unlock the entryways of my life … a little.” The passing of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and this young man, an anonymous author, now feels reconsidering the choices which led him to his current situation (alone; sporting facial hair; creating several kids' reference books for an employer who concludes emails using the words “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard begins on a journey to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his trusted friend, mentor and partner during their regular gaming session which acts as debate (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The source of the moniker appears lost in history. It could be that Paul once ate some food in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh lively associate who cheerily offers to get rid of the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

Elsewhere in the first episode of a series not heavily plotted and more by what a modern audience might call “vibes”, we are introduced to the older generation (the brilliant the actor), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to amaze his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Shepherding us throughout this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the presence of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a distraction?” that's accurate. However, Roberts does a good job, and lines like “The issue with Leonard is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism for now. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: that place is “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, indicating the duck it loves.” It’s a series that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up toward the sky, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that no experience is in the world as uplifting as being in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows of your life, a little, and allow it entry.