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In a calm area of Dublin, a man is standing on the pavement, sporting a vest and voicing his concerns. “I feel myself getting quieter. More invisible,” states Leonard, gazing into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and at this point I believe if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, ponders this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his dressing gown moving gently. “Superior to striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”

For anyone weary by the chaos and constant stimulation of modern television terrain, this series steps in like a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment program written by its authors, based on the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; peering critically over its spectacles toward anything that involves disturbances, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. This show rather, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration of those content to pootle around below the parapet. And yet. Leonard (a further sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He notices a creeping “desire to unlock the doors and windows within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his beloved mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now finds himself questioning the paths that have brought him to where he is (alone; defensively moustached; writing a range of kids' reference books for an employer who concludes emails saying “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins on a journey for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his confidante, guide and ally in a recurring board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The origin of this name seems forgotten to the mists of time. It could be that he once ate a sandwich in record time, or responded to an awkward situation by hastily opening some food items by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes Shelley (the actress), a new lively co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate the awful manager (the actor) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In another part in the first episode of the comedy focused less on story and centered around what younger viewers may refer to as “vibes”, we are introduced to the older generation (the ever-wonderful Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who privately views, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to impress his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Guiding viewers through all this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Yes, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “surely the presence of a big-name celebrity clashes with the show's modest approach and starts off as just a distraction?” you would be correct. Still, Roberts does a good job, and phrases for example “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that early misgivings yield though not complete approval, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism at this time. The show's core is in the right place: the right place being “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating the duck it loves.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, at other times looking at its feet, calmly assured that no experience is on Earth as cheering as spending time with good friends.

Open the doors and windows within your world, just a bit, and welcome it inside.