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In a peaceful neighborhood of the Irish capital, an individual stands outside his home, wearing a sleeveless jumper and voicing his thoughts. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” remarks the main character, staring up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and now I feel like unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his closest companion, reflects on this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his bathrobe flapping with the wind. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For those weary by the bluster and fast pace of current streaming offerings, this series arrives like a warm cover and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

Like its gentle leads, the series – a six-part show created by its authors, adapted from the novelist’s subtle book – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking skeptically through its eyewear toward anything in the way of unnecessary noise, quick actions or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. This show on the contrary, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration of those satisfied to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. Leonard (another uniquely quirky portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He senses an increasing “need to open the entryways in my existence … slightly.” The passing of his beloved mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, a writer for others, now feels reconsidering the choices that have brought him to where he is (unattached; defensively moustached; working on several children’s encyclopedias for a man who ends messages using the words “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard starts an exploration for personal satisfaction, alongside his more outgoing Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, life coach and partner in a weekly game night that serves both as discussion (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? No idea. The source of this name appears lost in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker previously devoured a snack in record time, or answered to a tense moment by nervously peeling several snacks with his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh lively colleague who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the initial show of this program not heavily plotted and more by what the under-30s may refer to as “mood”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the performer), a worn-out individual who privately views, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to impress his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Guiding viewers through all this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a distraction?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and phrases for example “Leonard's challenge is his absence of an expression of discovery” help ensure that early misgivings fade if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “sitting on a park bench alongside similar shows, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward into space, sometimes downward toward the ground, calmly assured that nothing is on Earth as heartening as spending time in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows of your life, just a bit, and let it in.