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In a peaceful area of the city, a man is standing on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and expressing his concerns. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” says the main character, gazing up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently it seems if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his only confidant, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his bathrobe swaying gently. “Superior to striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”

For viewers tired by the chaos and fast pace of current streaming terrain, the show comes similar to a cozy wrap and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-episode comedy created by the writing duo, adapted from Rónán Hession’s quiet story – takes a dim view on contemporary society; gazing skeptically over its spectacles toward anything in the way of unnecessary noise, quick actions or – goodness forbid – too much drive. This show rather, a tribute to quiet people; a subtle homage to people satisfied to amble along away from attention. And yet. He (another distinctly original performance by the actor) is unsettled. He notices a growing “desire to unlock the openings in my existence … slightly.” The passing of his mother has whisked the rug out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now realizes doubting the paths that have brought him to his current situation (unattached; defensively moustached; working on multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who signs off messages saying “see you later”).

And so Leonard begins himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, mentor and partner during their regular gaming session that serves both as symposium (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The beginning of the nickname seems forgotten in history. Perhaps Paul previously devoured a sandwich very fast, or reacted to a tense moment by hastily opening several snacks with his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (the performer), a new energetic colleague who happily suggests to kill his terrible supervisor (the actor) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound audible is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part during the opening installment of a series driven less by plot and more by what the under-30s may refer to as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who privately views, records then replays daytime quiz shows to dazzle his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Guiding the audience through all this gentle kindness is a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the celebrity. In case you're considering, “certainly the presence of such a famous actor contradicts the program's low-key style and starts off as just an interruption?” that's accurate. However, the actress performs admirably, and phrases for example “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings give way if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The series' spirit has good intentions: that place is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up into space, occasionally down at its feet, calmly assured that no experience is in the world as uplifting as passing time in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, slightly, and welcome it inside.