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In a calm neighborhood of the Irish capital, a man is standing on the pavement, wearing a vest and expressing his concerns. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” states Leonard, staring into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point I believe unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, ponders these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his robe moving in the breeze. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For anyone tired by the noise and constant stimulation of today’s TV terrain, this series steps in as a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

In line with its gentle leads, the series – a six-part show written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on the novelist’s subtle 2019 novel – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking critically through its spectacles toward anything that involves disturbances, quick actions or – perish the thought – an abundance of ambition. The program rather, a tribute to quiet people; a subtle homage for those content to amble along below the parapet. And yet. He (a further sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He notices an increasing “urge to throw open the entryways within my world … slightly.” The recent death of his mother has pulled the carpet out from under him and Leonard, a ghost writer, now feels doubting the choices that directed him to his current situation (single; defensively moustached; working on multiple children’s encyclopedias for an employer who concludes emails with the phrase “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard begins an exploration to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his close companion, guide and partner during their regular gaming session that serves both as discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? The reason is unknown. The origin of the nickname appears lost in mystery. Maybe he once ate some food very fast, or reacted to a tense moment by panic-peeling four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a vibrant character (the performer), a recent lively co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to kill the awful manager (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound noticeable represents Leonard's calm life undergoing a shake-up.

In other scenes in the initial show of this program focused less on story and more by what a modern audience might call “mood”, viewers encounter Paul's father (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to impress his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Guiding the audience throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – Julia Roberts. Indeed, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the presence of such a famous actor is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a diversion?” you would be correct. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases like “The issue with Leonard is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts give way though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: the right place being “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, pointing out its favourite duck.” It’s a series that moves gently in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, at other times looking toward the ground, serenely certain that nothing is in the world as heartening as spending time in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, slightly, and let it in.