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In a quiet suburb of the city, a person is standing on the pavement, wearing a tank top and voicing his feelings. “I feel myself getting quieter. Less noticeable,” states the protagonist, looking up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I believe without a change, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Hungry Paul, his only confidant, considers the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his bathrobe flapping gently. “Preferable to attempting to leave an impact and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers tired by the noise and fast pace of today’s TV terrain, the show comes similar to a foil blanket and warming mug of Ribena.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-part program written by its authors, adapted from the author’s quiet story – takes a dim view at modern life; looking skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything that involves disturbances, sudden movements or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The series rather, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute of those content to amble along below the parapet. However. He (a further uniquely quirky performance from the star) is uneasy. He notices an increasing “urge to throw open the entryways in my existence … just a bit.” The recent death of his beloved mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes questioning the decisions that directed him to this point (single; sporting facial hair; writing multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who signs off emails with the phrase “see you later”).

Thus Leonard launches himself on a quest for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his trusted friend, mentor and co-conspirator in a recurring gaming session which acts as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The source of the nickname appears lost in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker once ate a sandwich very fast, or answered to a tense moment by nervously peeling several snacks using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence comes a new colleague (the performer), a fresh energetic associate who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of the awful manager (the character) during the office fire drill. The swift movement audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the initial show of this program focused less on story and more on what a modern audience may refer to as “mood”, we meet Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the performer), a worn-out individual who privately views, saves and reviews television game programs to impress his devoted partner using his trivia skills.

Leading us throughout this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – Julia Roberts. Yes, the star. Should you wonder, “undoubtedly the presence of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as a diversion?” you would be correct. However, Roberts acquits herself well, and dialogue such as “The issue with Leonard is the missing a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that initial doubts give way if not quite to appreciation, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. The show's core has good intentions: that place is “sitting on a park bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out the duck it loves.” The program that strolls leisurely wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward toward the sky, sometimes downward at its slippers, quietly confident that there is nothing on Earth as uplifting as spending time in the company of good friends.

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