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In a calm area of the city, a person is standing on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and voicing his feelings. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” states the protagonist, looking into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I feel like without a change, I’ll just carry on in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his closest and only friend, considers this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his dressing gown moving gently. “Preferable to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For those exhausted by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of current streaming terrain, the show comes as a cozy wrap with a hot drink of a sweet cordial.

Like its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-episode program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, based on Rónán Hession’s subtle 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly on contemporary society; looking skeptically through its spectacles on everything related to disturbances, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. This show on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute to people content to amble along away from attention. However. Leonard (one more distinctly original portrayal from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He feels an increasing “desire to unlock the entryways of my life … slightly.” The recent death of his parent has pulled the carpet out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now feels doubting the decisions that directed him to this point (single; sporting facial hair; working on several educational volumes for a boss who ends emails using the words “see you later”).

Thus Leonard starts on a journey for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his trusted friend, guide and co-conspirator in a weekly gaming session which acts as symposium (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The beginning of the moniker appears lost to the mists of time. It could be that Paul once ate a snack very fast, or responded to a tense moment by hastily opening four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts a new colleague (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), a new spring-loaded associate who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world undergoing a shake-up.

In other scenes in the initial show of this program focused less on story and more on what the under-30s might call “vibes”, we are introduced to the older generation (the ever-wonderful the actor), a battered sofa of a man who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to dazzle his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Guiding viewers amidst this minor-key niceness is a narrator that is unmistakably – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, Julia Roberts. If you are thinking, “certainly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. However, the actress performs admirably, and dialogue like “Leonard's challenge is his absence of an expression of discovery” assist in making sure that early misgivings give way if not quite to appreciation, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism at this time. The series' spirit is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing the duck it loves.” The program that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, sometimes downward at its feet, serenely certain that nothing is in the world as cheering as being with good friends.

Unlock the entryways of your life, slightly, and let it in.