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In a calm neighborhood of the Irish capital, a man can be found outside his home, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and expressing his feelings. “I feel myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” remarks Leonard, staring up at the night sky. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point I believe if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, ponders these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his dressing gown moving gently. “Better than attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone weary by the chaos and fast pace of modern television offerings, this series steps in as a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

In line with its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a half-dozen installment show written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on the novelist’s subtle book – takes a dim view toward today's world; peering disapprovingly over its spectacles toward anything in the way of disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The program rather, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration of those satisfied to amble along away from attention. However. The character (one more sublimely idiosyncratic performance from the star) feels restless. He senses a growing “urge to throw open the entryways in my existence … a little.” The loss of his beloved mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and Leonard, a writer for others, now finds himself questioning the choices that directed him to where he is (alone; with a protective mustache; working on a range of kids' reference books for an employer who concludes emails with the phrase “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins on a journey for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his confidante, mentor and ally in a weekly gaming session functioning as both discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do children urinate as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? No idea. The source of the moniker appears lost to the mists of time. Perhaps the postal worker on one occasion consumed a sandwich in record time, or responded to a socially fraught incident by panic-peeling several snacks with his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels Shelley (the actress), a new energetic colleague who happily suggests to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound noticeable represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In another part during the opening installment of a series driven less by plot and more by what younger viewers might call “mood”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches television game programs to amaze his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading viewers through all this subtle warmth there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and truly is – Julia Roberts. Truly, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the presence of such a famous actor contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as an interruption?” you would be correct. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue such as “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a look of sudden insight” help ensure that early misgivings fade if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism currently. The show's core has good intentions: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its favourite duck.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up at the stars, occasionally down at its feet, quietly confident that no experience is on Earth as cheering as being with good friends.

Throw open the portals in your existence, a little, and welcome it inside.