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In a quiet neighborhood of the Irish capital, an individual stands in his driveway, wearing a tank top and sharing his feelings. “It seems like my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” says Leonard, looking into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and currently it seems if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his closest confidant, ponders this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his robe swaying in the breeze. “Better than trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers exhausted by the chaos and rat-tat-tat of current streaming landscape, the show comes similar to a warm cover and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Like its quiet characters, the series – a six-part program created by the writing duo, adapted from the novelist’s understated story – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; looking disapprovingly through its eyewear toward anything that involves unnecessary noise, quick actions or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. The program is, instead, an ode to introversion; a subtle homage for those content to pootle around out of the spotlight. However. He (one more distinctly original turn by the actor) is uneasy. He feels a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways in my existence … a little.” The recent death of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet from under his slippers and Leonard, a ghost writer, now feels questioning the choices that have brought him to this point (alone; defensively moustached; creating a range of kids' reference books for a boss who concludes messages saying “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard begins an exploration for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (the performer) acting as his confidante, mentor and ally in a weekly gaming session that serves both as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of this name appears lost to the mists of time. Maybe he on one occasion consumed a snack very fast, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent spring-loaded co-worker who cheerily offers to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the first episode of the comedy focused less on story and more on what younger viewers might call “mood”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to impress his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Guiding us amidst this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, Julia Roberts. Should you wonder, “certainly the presence of a big-name celebrity clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a distraction?” you're right. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue like “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a look of sudden insight” help ensure that first reservations fade if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: that place is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that ambles along wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward at its feet, calmly assured that no experience is in the world as cheering as being in the company of dear pals.

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