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In a calm area of the city, a man can be found in his driveway, sporting a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” says the protagonist, staring up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and now I believe if I don’t do something, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, considers the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his dressing gown flapping gently. “Superior to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For those tired by the bluster and fast pace of today’s TV offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in like a warm cover and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Like its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part program created by the writing duo, based on Rónán Hession’s quiet 2019 novel – casts a critical eye on contemporary society; gazing critically above its eyewear toward anything related to unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. This show on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute to people content to wander away from attention. But. Leonard (one more uniquely quirky turn from the star) is uneasy. He notices an increasing “desire to unlock the openings in my existence … just a bit.” The loss of his beloved mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now finds himself reconsidering the decisions which led him to where he is (alone; defensively moustached; writing a range of children’s encyclopedias for a man who concludes emails with the phrase “see you later”).

And so Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (the performer) serving as his close companion, guide and ally in a recurring board games evening that serves both as debate (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The source of the nickname is shrouded in history. Maybe the postal worker on one occasion consumed some food in record time, or answered to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening several snacks by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels a new colleague (the actress), a new lively associate who lightheartedly proposes to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In another part in the first episode of a series not heavily plotted and more by what the under-30s may refer to as “vibes”, viewers encounter the older generation (the consistently great the actor), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to impress his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Guiding us through all this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and actually is – the famous actress. Indeed, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “surely the use of such a famous actor contradicts the show's modest approach and starts off as just a distraction?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases for example “Leonard's challenge is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” assist in making sure that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining for now. The show's core has good intentions: which is “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, showing its preferred bird.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward toward the ground, serenely certain that nothing is on Earth as uplifting as spending time with good friends.

Throw open the portals in your existence, just a bit, and allow it entry.