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In a quiet suburb of Dublin, a man can be found on the pavement, dressed in a vest and sharing his concerns. “I feel my voice is fading. More invisible,” remarks Leonard, staring into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and at this point I believe without a change, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his closest and only friend, considers this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his bathrobe moving with the wind. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For those tired by the bluster and fast pace of today’s TV offerings, this series comes similar to a foil blanket and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment program developed by the writing duo, based on Rónán Hession’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing skeptically through its eyewear at anything that involves unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – too much drive. This show rather, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration of those content to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. He (a further distinctly original portrayal from Alex Lawther) is uneasy. He feels a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now finds himself doubting the paths that have brought him to where he is (single; with a protective mustache; writing multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who ends correspondence with the phrase “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard begins himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, mentor and co-conspirator in a weekly gaming session that serves both as debate (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or do children urinate as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the moniker is shrouded in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker once ate a sandwich in record time, or responded to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening several snacks using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts Shelley (the performer), a fresh energetic associate who cheerily offers to kill Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise you can hear represents Leonard's calm life undergoing a shake-up.

In another part in the first episode of this program focused less on story and more on what younger viewers may refer to as “vibes”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the performer), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays trivia competitions to amaze his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Guiding viewers amidst this gentle kindness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the star. In case you're considering, “surely the inclusion of such a famous actor clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a diversion?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue for example “The issue with Leonard is the missing a look of sudden insight” help ensure that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining for now. The show's core is well-intentioned: which is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, indicating the duck it loves.” It’s a series that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, at times staring into space, sometimes downward at its slippers, quietly confident that nothing is in life as heartening as being in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows of your life, a little, and let it in.