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In a calm area of Dublin, a person is standing on the pavement, wearing a vest and expressing his feelings. “It seems like my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” states the main character, gazing up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently I feel like unless I take action, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, Leonard’s best companion, considers these words. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his bathrobe moving gently. “Superior to striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”

For those exhausted by the noise and fast pace of current streaming landscape, the show arrives similar to a foil blanket and warming mug of blackcurrant juice.

In line with its harmless protagonists, the series – a half-dozen installment show developed by its authors, adapted from the novelist’s quiet story – looks disapprovingly at modern life; peering disapprovingly over its spectacles on everything in the way of unnecessary noise, quick actions or – heaven forfend – an abundance of ambition. This show rather, a celebration of shyness; a quiet celebration for those happy to wander out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (one more uniquely quirky portrayal from the star) is unsettled. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways in my existence … a little.” The recent death of his mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now realizes questioning the paths that have brought him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; working on multiple educational volumes for an employer who ends correspondence using the words “goodbye for now”).

And so Leonard launches an exploration for personal satisfaction, with the slightly bolder Paul (the performer) functioning as his close companion, mentor and ally in a weekly board games evening which acts as discussion (“Is the pool warm due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the nickname appears lost in history. Perhaps Paul once ate some food unusually quickly, or reacted to an awkward situation by nervously peeling four scotch eggs with his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence cartwheels a new colleague (the performer), a recent spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to kill his terrible supervisor (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of a series not heavily plotted and centered around what the under-30s may refer to as “vibes”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the brilliant the actor), a tired character who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches television game programs to dazzle his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Leading viewers amidst this gentle kindness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the famous actress. Truly, Julia Roberts. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the inclusion of such a famous actor contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you would be correct. Still, the actress performs admirably, and lines for example “Leonard's challenge is the missing an expression of discovery” help ensure that early misgivings yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism at this time. The show's core has good intentions: that place is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, indicating its favourite duck.” It’s a series that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring into space, occasionally down at its feet, quietly confident that there is nothing in life as cheering as passing time with close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, a little, and welcome it inside.