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In a calm suburb of the city, an individual is standing on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his concerns. “I notice myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” says Leonard, gazing into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and currently I feel like without a change, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best companion, considers this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his dressing gown moving in the breeze. “Preferable to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone weary by the noise and constant stimulation of current streaming landscape, the show comes like a foil blanket and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-episode program written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the author’s quiet story – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses on everything that involves disturbances, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. The program is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute of those happy to pootle around out of the spotlight. But. He (a further uniquely quirky portrayal from the star) feels restless. He feels a creeping “urge to throw open the openings of my life … slightly.” The loss of his beloved mother has pulled the carpet away from his feet and Leonard, a ghost writer, now feels doubting the paths that directed him to his current situation (single; defensively moustached; working on several children’s encyclopedias for a boss who signs off correspondence using the words “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (the performer) acting as his trusted friend, guide and ally in a recurring game night that serves both as debate (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of the moniker seems forgotten in mystery. Maybe Paul previously devoured a sandwich unusually quickly, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling several snacks with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh energetic co-worker who cheerily offers to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the character) during the office fire drill. The swift movement noticeable is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the first episode of a series focused less on story and more on what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great the performer), a worn-out individual who privately views, tapes and rewatches television game programs to amaze his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Shepherding us throughout this minor-key niceness is a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “undoubtedly the presence of such a famous actor is at odds with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a diversion?” you would be correct. Still, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that first reservations give way if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: that place is “sitting on a park bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its favourite duck.” It’s a series that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, occasionally down at its feet, calmly assured that nothing is on Earth as heartening as spending time alongside good friends.

Unlock the entryways within your world, slightly, and allow it entry.