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In a peaceful area of Dublin, a man stands in his driveway, sporting a tank top and expressing his feelings. “I notice myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” says the main character, gazing toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and at this point I believe unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, Leonard’s best companion, ponders these words. “Nothing wrong with that,” he answers, his bathrobe flapping in the breeze. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For those weary by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV offerings, this series comes as a cozy wrap and warming mug of Ribena.

Similar to its gentle leads, the series – a half-dozen installment program written by the writing duo, based on Rónán Hession’s quiet story – takes a dim view toward today's world; gazing critically over its eyewear toward anything related to loud sounds, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The program rather, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute to people content to pootle around out of the spotlight. However. He (one more sublimely idiosyncratic performance by the actor) is unsettled. He notices an increasing “urge to throw open the entryways of my life … a little.” The passing of his parent has yanked the floor from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, an anonymous author, now feels questioning the choices which led him to his current situation (alone; defensively moustached; creating a range of kids' reference books for a boss who concludes messages with the phrase “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard starts on a journey for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the performer) serving as his trusted friend, mentor and co-conspirator during their regular board games evening that serves both as debate (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? The reason is unknown. The origin of the nickname appears lost in mystery. Perhaps Paul on one occasion consumed a sandwich in record time, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling some food items by biting into them).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts a vibrant character (the performer), a recent energetic co-worker who cheerily offers to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. The swift movement audible is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

Elsewhere in the first episode of a series driven less by plot and centered around what a modern audience may refer to as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who privately views, records then replays television game programs to impress his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Leading us throughout this subtle warmth there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, the star. If you are thinking, “certainly the use of such a famous actor clashes with the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a diversion?” you would be correct. However, Roberts does a good job, and phrases like “The issue with Leonard is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. The series' spirit has good intentions: the right place being “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out the duck it loves.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up toward the sky, at other times looking at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is in life as heartening as passing time in the company of dear pals.

Unlock the entryways within your world, just a bit, and welcome it inside.