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In a peaceful area of the Irish capital, a man can be found on the pavement, wearing a tank top and voicing his feelings. “I feel I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” states Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “One thing’s led to another and now I feel like if I don’t do something, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his only confidant, considers this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his dressing gown flapping gently. “Preferable to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers exhausted by the noise and fast pace of today’s TV landscape, this series arrives similar to a warm cover with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

In line with its quiet characters, this comedy – a half-dozen installment comedy written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by Rónán Hession’s quiet 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; peering disapprovingly over its eyewear toward anything in the way of loud sounds, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The program is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute for those happy to wander away from attention. However. Leonard (a further distinctly original portrayal from Alex Lawther) feels restless. He notices a creeping “desire to unlock the entryways within my world … a little.” The recent death of his mother has pulled the carpet from under his slippers and Leonard, a writer for others, now finds himself questioning the decisions that directed him to his current situation (unattached; defensively moustached; working on several educational volumes for a boss who ends correspondence using the words “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard starts himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Paul (the actor) acting as his close companion, life coach and co-conspirator during their regular board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The origin of this name appears lost to the mists of time. Maybe Paul once ate a sandwich very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling some food items using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a fresh lively associate who cheerily offers to get rid of the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. The rushing noise audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the initial show of the comedy driven less by plot and more by what the under-30s might call “atmosphere”, viewers encounter the older generation (the ever-wonderful the actor), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, records then replays trivia competitions to amaze his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Shepherding viewers throughout this gentle kindness there is a voiceover that sounds very much like – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the celebrity. Should you wonder, “surely the inclusion of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the show's modest approach and initially serves only as a distraction?” you're right. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and phrases such as “Leonard's challenge is the missing a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings yield if not quite to appreciation, then at minimum tolerance.

Enough complaining currently. The series' spirit has good intentions: which is “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, pointing out the duck it loves.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, at times staring at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, serenely certain that there is nothing in the world as cheering as passing time with good friends.

Unlock the entryways in your existence, a little, and allow it entry.