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In a peaceful neighborhood of Dublin, a person stands on the pavement, sporting a tank top and voicing his feelings. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” remarks Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “One thing’s led to another and currently it seems without a change, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, reflects on the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he responds, his dressing gown moving gently. “Superior to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For those exhausted by the bluster and fast pace of today’s TV terrain, this series comes like a foil blanket and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a six-episode comedy developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the author’s quiet book – takes a dim view on contemporary society; gazing disapprovingly through its eyewear on everything in the way of loud sounds, quick actions or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. This show on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute to people happy to wander below the parapet. However. He (another distinctly original performance from the star) is uneasy. He notices a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows of my life … slightly.” The passing of his parent has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes questioning the decisions which led him to this point (single; with a protective mustache; creating a range of children’s encyclopedias for a boss who concludes correspondence saying “see you later”).

And so Leonard starts an exploration to find happiness, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the performer) functioning as his confidante, guide and co-conspirator during their regular board games evening functioning as both debate (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The source of the nickname is shrouded in history. It could be that Paul once ate some food unusually quickly, or responded to an awkward situation by nervously peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh spring-loaded co-worker who happily suggests to get rid of the awful manager (the character) during the office fire drill. The swift movement noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part in the initial show of the comedy not heavily plotted and more on what a modern audience could describe as “atmosphere”, we meet the older generation (the brilliant the actor), a worn-out individual who privately views, saves and reviews trivia competitions to dazzle his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Leading viewers amidst this gentle kindness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the star. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the presence of such a famous actor is at odds with the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a distraction?” that's accurate. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases such as “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” help ensure that initial doubts fade if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward toward the ground, calmly assured that no experience is in the world as uplifting as being alongside dear pals.

Throw open the portals of your life, slightly, and allow it entry.