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In a calm suburb of the Irish capital, a man stands in his driveway, sporting a sleeveless jumper and expressing his concerns. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” says Leonard, staring up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and at this point it seems unless I take action, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, ponders the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his robe swaying gently. “Better than striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”

For anyone exhausted by the chaos and rat-tat-tat of today’s TV offerings, the show arrives similar to a cozy wrap and warming mug of Ribena.

In line with its gentle leads, this comedy – a half-dozen installment show written by its authors, adapted from the author’s quiet story – casts a critical eye at modern life; looking skeptically above its eyewear toward anything in the way of loud sounds, sudden movements or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. The series on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage for those content to amble along away from attention. And yet. Leonard (a further uniquely quirky portrayal from the star) is unsettled. He notices a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows of my life … slightly.” The loss of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet from under his slippers and this young man, a writer for others, now feels doubting the decisions that have brought him to his current situation (unattached; sporting facial hair; writing multiple kids' reference books for a boss who concludes correspondence using the words “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard launches himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Paul (the actor) acting as his confidante, life coach and ally in a recurring game night functioning as both symposium (“Does the pool feel warm because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The source of this name seems forgotten to the mists of time. Maybe the postal worker once ate a sandwich unusually quickly, or responded to an awkward situation by hastily opening four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent spring-loaded co-worker who happily suggests to kill the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound you can hear represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of the comedy focused less on story and more by what the under-30s may refer to as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter the older generation (the consistently great the performer), a tired character who privately views, saves and reviews trivia competitions to impress his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Guiding viewers amidst this gentle kindness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and truly is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “certainly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue like “Leonard’s problem is the missing a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining at this time. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: the right place being “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, indicating the duck it loves.” The program that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward into space, occasionally down at its slippers, serenely certain that no experience is on Earth as uplifting as spending time in the company of close companions.

Throw open the portals of your life, slightly, and welcome it inside.