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In a calm suburb of the city, a person is standing on the pavement, sporting a sleeveless jumper and sharing his concerns. “I notice myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” remarks the main character, gazing up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently I feel like without a change, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best companion, ponders this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his dressing gown moving with the wind. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For those weary by the noise and constant stimulation of today’s TV offerings, Leonard and Hungry Paul steps in similar to a warm cover and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part show created by its authors, inspired by Rónán Hession’s quiet story – takes a dim view at modern life; looking skeptically above its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything in the way of unnecessary noise, quick actions or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. The program on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration for those content to pootle around below the parapet. And yet. Leonard (another distinctly original turn by the actor) is uneasy. He senses an increasing “need to open the doors and windows within my world … a little.” The passing of his mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now realizes questioning the decisions that directed him to his current situation (alone; with a protective mustache; creating multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who ends emails with the phrase “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins an exploration for personal satisfaction, with the slightly bolder Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator in a recurring game night that serves both as symposium (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The beginning of this name is shrouded to the mists of time. Perhaps the postal worker previously devoured a sandwich very fast, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (the actress), a new spring-loaded colleague who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of the awful manager (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise audible represents Leonard's calm life undergoing a shake-up.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of the comedy focused less on story and more by what younger viewers may refer to as “mood”, we meet the older generation (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who covertly observes, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to amaze his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Shepherding viewers through all this subtle warmth is a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of a big-name celebrity contradicts the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a distraction?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue like “Leonard’s problem is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that early misgivings yield though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is well-intentioned: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, showing its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up toward the sky, at other times looking toward the ground, quietly confident that there is nothing on Earth as cheering as passing time with good friends.

Open the doors and windows in your existence, a little, and allow it entry.