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In a quiet neighborhood of the Irish capital, a person can be found outside his home, wearing a vest and voicing his feelings. “I feel myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” remarks Leonard, staring up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently it seems if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his only confidant, considers this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his robe moving in the breeze. “Better than trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For those tired by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV landscape, this series comes similar to a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

Similar to its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part comedy written by the writing duo, inspired by Rónán Hession’s quiet book – looks disapprovingly at modern life; peering disapprovingly through its spectacles on everything in the way of loud sounds, sudden movements or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. The series is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration for those happy to pootle around out of the spotlight. And yet. He (one more uniquely quirky performance from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He notices an increasing “need to open the openings in my existence … just a bit.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, a ghost writer, now finds himself doubting the paths that directed him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; writing several kids' reference books for an employer who ends messages using the words “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard launches an exploration for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (the actor) acting as his trusted friend, guide and partner during their regular game night functioning as both debate (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The beginning of this name seems forgotten in mystery. Maybe Paul once ate a sandwich unusually quickly, or responded to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded associate who happily suggests to kill his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of this program not heavily plotted and more by what a modern audience might call “atmosphere”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the actor), a worn-out individual who privately views, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to impress his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Leading the audience through all this gentle kindness is a narrator that sounds very much like – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity contradicts the show's modest approach and at first acts merely as a distraction?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue for example “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that initial doubts fade if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

No more criticism currently. The show's core is well-intentioned: which is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up toward the sky, sometimes downward at its slippers, quietly confident that nothing is in life as cheering as being with good friends.

Unlock the entryways within your world, slightly, and allow it entry.