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In a calm area of the Irish capital, a man stands in his driveway, dressed in a vest and voicing his thoughts. “I notice myself getting quieter. More invisible,” says Leonard, looking up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and now it seems unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest confidant, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his robe moving in the breeze. “Better than trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For viewers weary by the noise and rat-tat-tat of modern television offerings, the show comes similar to a foil blanket with a hot drink of Ribena.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a six-part program written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the author’s quiet 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; gazing skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything that involves disturbances, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. This show is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a subtle homage to people content to wander below the parapet. However. He (another uniquely quirky performance by the actor) feels restless. He feels an increasing “urge to throw open the openings in my existence … slightly.” The loss of his mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and Leonard, a writer for others, now realizes doubting the decisions that have brought him to where he is (unattached; defensively moustached; writing multiple children’s encyclopedias for an employer who concludes messages with the phrase “see you later”).

Thus Leonard launches an exploration to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his confidante, guide and ally in a weekly gaming session functioning as both symposium (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of this name appears lost in history. It could be that he previously devoured some food in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling some food items with his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded associate who cheerily offers to get rid of the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In another part during the opening installment of the comedy focused less on story and more on what the under-30s could describe as “atmosphere”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the actor), a tired character who covertly observes, records then replays television game programs to dazzle his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Guiding the audience through all this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, the star. In case you're considering, “undoubtedly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star contradicts the show's modest approach and starts off as just a distraction?” you would be correct. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases such as “The issue with Leonard is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that early misgivings give way though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining at this time. The show's core is well-intentioned: the right place being “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” The program that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward toward the ground, calmly assured that no experience is in life as cheering as spending time in the company of dear pals.

Unlock the entryways in your existence, a little, and allow it entry.