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In a calm neighborhood of the city, a man stands outside his home, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and voicing his concerns. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” says Leonard, gazing into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and now I believe if I don’t do something, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, Leonard’s best confidant, considers these words. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his dressing gown swaying in the breeze. “Better than attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone tired by the bluster and constant stimulation of today’s TV landscape, the show arrives similar to a warm cover and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

In line with its gentle leads, this comedy – a six-episode show written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the author’s understated book – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing skeptically over its spectacles at anything related to unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. This show is, instead, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to wander out of the spotlight. However. Leonard (one more uniquely quirky performance by the actor) is uneasy. He feels a creeping “desire to unlock the openings within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes reconsidering the choices that have brought him to where he is (single; sporting facial hair; creating multiple kids' reference books for an employer who ends emails with the phrase “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard begins himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his close companion, life coach and partner in a weekly board games evening that serves both as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? No idea. The source of the nickname seems forgotten in mystery. Maybe the postal worker on one occasion consumed a snack unusually quickly, or reacted to a tense moment by nervously peeling several snacks with his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a vibrant character (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a recent lively co-worker who happily suggests to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the actor) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the first episode of this program focused less on story and more by what a modern audience may refer to as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to dazzle his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Leading the audience throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “undoubtedly the inclusion of such a famous actor is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as a diversion?” that's accurate. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and phrases for example “Leonard’s problem is the missing an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that first reservations fade if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: the right place being “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, indicating the duck it loves.” The program that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, at times staring at the stars, at other times looking at its feet, serenely certain that no experience is in the world as uplifting as being in the company of close companions.

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