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In a peaceful suburb of Dublin, an individual is standing on the pavement, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. More invisible,” remarks the main character, looking up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently I feel like without a change, I’ll just carry on in this simple, peaceful routine.” Paul, his only companion, considers the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his dressing gown swaying with the wind. “Preferable to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For those weary by the noise and constant stimulation of today’s TV landscape, this series steps in like a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part comedy developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by Rónán Hession’s quiet book – takes a dim view on contemporary society; looking disapprovingly through its eyewear toward anything in the way of loud sounds, quick actions or – perish the thought – too much drive. This show is, instead, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute for those content to wander below the parapet. But. He (another sublimely idiosyncratic turn by the actor) is unsettled. He notices a creeping “need to open the doors and windows in my existence … just a bit.” The passing of his parent has whisked the rug away from his feet and Leonard, a ghost writer, now finds himself questioning the choices that have brought him to his current situation (alone; with a protective mustache; writing several kids' reference books for a man who concludes messages with the phrase “goodbye for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins an exploration for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) functioning as his confidante, mentor and partner in a weekly gaming session which acts as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of the nickname appears lost to the mists of time. Maybe he previously devoured a sandwich very fast, or responded to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening some food items using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts a new colleague (the performer), a fresh spring-loaded associate who cheerily offers to kill the awful manager (the character) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of the comedy not heavily plotted and centered around what a modern audience could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to the older generation (the brilliant the performer), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, records then replays trivia competitions to dazzle his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Shepherding us throughout this gentle kindness there is a voiceover that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Truly, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star clashes with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. However, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is the missing a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining currently. The series' spirit is well-intentioned: which is “sitting on a park bench in the company of gentle comedies, indicating its favourite duck.” The program that ambles along in comfortable attire, occasionally looking up toward the sky, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is in the world as heartening as being alongside dear pals.

Open the doors and windows within your world, a little, and allow it entry.