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In a peaceful area of the Irish capital, a man is standing on the pavement, dressed in a tank top and expressing his feelings. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” states Leonard, gazing into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and now it seems unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best companion, ponders these words. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his dressing gown swaying gently. “Superior to striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”

For those weary by the noise and rat-tat-tat of current streaming offerings, this series steps in as a warm cover and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

In line with its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-part comedy created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the novelist’s subtle book – takes a dim view on contemporary society; gazing critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – too much drive. The program on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration for those satisfied to wander away from attention. And yet. The character (one more distinctly original portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He feels a growing “urge to throw open the openings within my world … a little.” The loss of his beloved mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and this young man, an anonymous author, now feels doubting the paths that directed him to this point (single; defensively moustached; working on multiple kids' reference books for a boss who signs off messages with the phrase “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard starts himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his close companion, mentor and partner in a recurring gaming session that serves both as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of this name appears lost to the mists of time. Perhaps Paul previously devoured a snack unusually quickly, or answered to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening some food items using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (the actress), a recent energetic associate who cheerily offers to eliminate his terrible supervisor (the actor) during the office fire drill. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the first episode of the comedy focused less on story and more by what a modern audience could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to dazzle his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Leading us through all this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that sounds very much like – and truly is – the famous actress. Yes, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a diversion?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines such as “Leonard’s problem is his absence of an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that first reservations give way though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism at this time. The show's core is well-intentioned: the right place being “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its preferred bird.” It’s a series that moves gently in comfortable attire, at times staring into space, occasionally down at its slippers, quietly confident that there is nothing in the world as cheering as spending time with good friends.

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