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In a calm suburb of Dublin, a man can be found in his driveway, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his feelings. “I feel myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” says Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “One thing’s led to another and at this point it seems unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, reflects on the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his robe moving in the breeze. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For those exhausted by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of current streaming offerings, this series steps in like a cozy wrap with a hot drink of a sweet cordial.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a six-part comedy written by its authors, inspired by Rónán Hession’s understated book – casts a critical eye at modern life; gazing critically above its eyewear toward anything related to unnecessary noise, quick actions or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. The series rather, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage for those satisfied to amble along away from attention. And yet. The character (a further distinctly original portrayal by the actor) feels restless. He senses a creeping “need to open the entryways of my life … just a bit.” The loss of his beloved mother has whisked the rug away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes doubting the choices that directed him to this point (single; with a protective mustache; creating a range of children’s encyclopedias for a boss who ends messages saying “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (the actor) acting as his close companion, life coach and partner during their regular gaming session functioning as both debate (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The beginning of the nickname is shrouded to the mists of time. It could be that the postal worker once ate a sandwich very fast, or reacted to a tense moment by nervously peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent energetic colleague who happily suggests to get rid of the awful manager (the actor) during the office fire drill. The swift movement audible represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

In other scenes during the opening installment of this program focused less on story and more by what a modern audience might call “vibes”, we meet Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the performer), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, records then replays trivia competitions to impress his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Guiding the audience amidst this subtle warmth is a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the famous actress. Indeed, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “certainly the inclusion of a big-name celebrity contradicts the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a diversion?” you're right. Still, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue such as “Leonard’s problem is the missing a look of sudden insight” help ensure that initial doubts yield if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining at this time. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: which is “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, pointing out the duck it loves.” It’s a series that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, at times staring at the stars, sometimes downward at its feet, calmly assured that nothing is in life as uplifting as passing time in the company of good friends.

Unlock the entryways of your life, slightly, and welcome it inside.