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In a peaceful area of the city, a man is standing outside his home, sporting a tank top and sharing his thoughts. “I feel my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” states the protagonist, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point it seems if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his closest confidant, considers this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his bathrobe swaying gently. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For anyone weary by the bluster and fast pace of modern television offerings, this series comes like a cozy wrap with a hot drink of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a six-episode program written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by Rónán Hession’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; looking skeptically above its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves loud sounds, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. The series on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage for those satisfied to wander away from attention. However. The character (one more uniquely quirky performance from the star) feels restless. He notices a creeping “need to open the doors and windows of my life … slightly.” The passing of his mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and this young man, a writer for others, now feels questioning the decisions which led him to where he is (unattached; with a protective mustache; working on multiple educational volumes for a man who signs off emails using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard starts himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (the actor) acting as his confidante, guide and partner in a weekly game night functioning as both debate (“Does the pool feel warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The source of this name seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps he once ate a snack in record time, or answered to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent energetic colleague who cheerily offers to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the actor) at a fire practice. The swift movement audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the initial show of a series not heavily plotted and more by what the under-30s might call “mood”, we are introduced to the older generation (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to impress his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Guiding the audience throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Indeed, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a distraction?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue such as “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that first reservations yield if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is well-intentioned: which is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” This is a show that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up into space, occasionally down toward the ground, calmly assured that there is nothing on Earth as heartening as spending time in the company of good friends.

Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and let it in.