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In a calm area of Dublin, a man can be found on the pavement, sporting a sleeveless jumper and expressing his concerns. “It seems like my voice is fading. Harder to see,” states the main character, gazing into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and at this point I believe unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his closest confidant, ponders this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his robe moving gently. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone weary by the bluster and fast pace of current streaming landscape, this series steps in similar to a warm cover and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

In line with its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a half-dozen installment program developed by the writing duo, inspired by Rónán Hession’s subtle book – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; peering skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything in the way of unnecessary noise, quick actions or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The series on the contrary, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration for those satisfied to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (one more sublimely idiosyncratic turn by the actor) is unsettled. He notices an increasing “urge to throw open the entryways of my life … just a bit.” The loss of his mother has yanked the floor out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes questioning the choices that have brought him to his current situation (unattached; sporting facial hair; writing multiple kids' reference books for a boss who concludes messages using the words “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard starts on a journey for emotional fulfilment, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his close companion, mentor and ally in a weekly board games evening which acts as debate (“Is the water heated because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The origin of the moniker seems forgotten in history. Maybe Paul once ate some food in record time, or answered to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts Shelley (the actress), a new lively associate who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) at a fire practice. The swift movement audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine being turned upside down.

Elsewhere in the first episode of this program driven less by plot and more by what the under-30s could describe as “mood”, we meet Paul's father (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, tapes and rewatches television game programs to dazzle his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Shepherding the audience amidst this gentle kindness is a narrator that sounds very much like – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “surely the inclusion of such a famous actor clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as an interruption?” that's accurate. However, the actress performs admirably, and lines for example “The issue with Leonard is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that first reservations fade if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

Enough complaining currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: which is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” The program that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up toward the sky, occasionally down at its feet, serenely certain that there is nothing in life as heartening as passing time alongside good friends.

Throw open the portals of your life, just a bit, and let it in.