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In a quiet area of the Irish capital, a person stands outside his home, dressed in a tank top and sharing his concerns. “I notice my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” says Leonard, looking into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and now I believe if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his only and only friend, reflects on the idea. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replies, his robe moving with the wind. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone tired by the chaos and constant stimulation of modern television offerings, the show steps in similar to a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of Ribena.

In line with its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-part program developed by its authors, adapted from the author’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; looking critically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The program on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage to people satisfied to wander away from attention. However. Leonard (a further distinctly original turn from the star) is uneasy. He notices a growing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … slightly.” The loss of his beloved mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now finds himself questioning the paths which led him to his current situation (single; sporting facial hair; creating multiple kids' reference books for an employer who ends messages saying “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder Paul (the performer) acting as his close companion, life coach and ally during their regular gaming session functioning as both symposium (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The beginning of the nickname seems forgotten in mystery. Maybe the postal worker once ate a sandwich very fast, or responded to a tense moment by nervously peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a new spring-loaded colleague who cheerily offers to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the actor) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the initial show of the comedy driven less by plot and more on what younger viewers could describe as “vibes”, we meet the older generation (the consistently great the actor), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Shepherding us amidst this subtle warmth there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. In case you're considering, “certainly the use of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you're right. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and lines such as “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining for now. The series' spirit has good intentions: which is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating the duck it loves.” The program that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, occasionally down at its slippers, quietly confident that no experience is in life as cheering as spending time with good friends.

Throw open the portals within your world, just a bit, and let it in.