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In a peaceful suburb of Dublin, a man stands outside his home, dressed in a vest and sharing his thoughts. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” states Leonard, gazing up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and now I believe unless I take action, I will continue in this minor, harmless existence.” Hungry Paul, his only and only friend, considers the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his dressing gown moving gently. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact and causing harm instead.”

For those weary by the chaos and fast pace of modern television landscape, this series comes as a warm cover and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

Like its gentle leads, Leonard and Hungry Paul – a six-episode show developed by the writing duo, adapted from Rónán Hession’s quiet book – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; peering disapprovingly through its spectacles toward anything in the way of disturbances, quick actions or – heaven forfend – too much drive. The program is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute of those content to wander below the parapet. However. The character (another uniquely quirky portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He senses a creeping “desire to unlock the openings of my life … a little.” The loss of his parent has whisked the rug out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes questioning the choices which led him to this point (alone; sporting facial hair; working on multiple educational volumes for a man who ends emails using the words “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard starts an exploration for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his trusted friend, guide and partner during their regular board games evening functioning as both debate (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(How did Paul get his nickname? No idea. The source of the nickname appears lost in history. Maybe he on one occasion consumed a sandwich in record time, or responded to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling several snacks by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a new colleague (the actress), a new lively associate who happily suggests to kill the awful manager (the actor) at a fire practice. The swift movement you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

In another part during the opening installment of the comedy focused less on story and more on what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the actor), a worn-out individual who privately views, records then replays daytime quiz shows to amaze his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Shepherding us amidst this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Truly, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. However, Roberts does a good job, and lines for example “Leonard’s problem is his absence of a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that first reservations yield if not quite to appreciation, then certainly understanding.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: that place is “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, showing its favourite duck.” This is a show that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring toward the sky, occasionally down at its slippers, quietly confident that there is nothing in the world as heartening as being alongside close companions.

Throw open the portals within your world, a little, and welcome it inside.