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In a quiet suburb of the city, an individual stands on the pavement, wearing a tank top and expressing his concerns. “I notice my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” says the protagonist, looking into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point it seems unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his closest confidant, ponders this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his dressing gown swaying in the breeze. “Preferable to striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”

For anyone exhausted by the bluster and constant stimulation of today’s TV offerings, this series comes similar to a warm cover and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-part program written by the writing duo, inspired by Rónán Hession’s quiet story – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; peering skeptically through its spectacles on everything related to disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. This show on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage of those content to wander out of the spotlight. However. He (another uniquely quirky turn from the star) feels restless. He senses an increasing “desire to unlock the doors and windows of my life … slightly.” The loss of his mother has yanked the floor away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes reconsidering the decisions that have brought him to his current situation (alone; sporting facial hair; creating multiple children’s encyclopedias for an employer who signs off correspondence using the words “see you later”).

Thus Leonard starts on a journey to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his confidante, mentor and co-conspirator during their regular game night functioning as both discussion (“Is the water heated from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The origin of this name seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps he on one occasion consumed some food very fast, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening some food items using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life comes a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh spring-loaded co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The swift movement audible signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere during the opening installment of a series driven less by plot and more on what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we meet the older generation (the ever-wonderful the actor), a tired character who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to dazzle his devoted partner using his trivia skills.

Guiding the audience through all this gentle kindness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Indeed, the celebrity. In case you're considering, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as a distraction?” you're right. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases such as “Leonard's challenge is his absence of an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that first reservations give way if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The show's core is well-intentioned: which is “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” This is a show that moves gently wearing its simple clothes, occasionally looking up toward the sky, occasionally down at its slippers, serenely certain that there is nothing in life as heartening as being in the company of close companions.

Unlock the entryways in your existence, just a bit, and welcome it inside.