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In a calm suburb of the Irish capital, a person can be found outside his home, sporting a sleeveless jumper and sharing his thoughts. “I notice I'm becoming more silent. Less noticeable,” states the main character, staring into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point it seems without a change, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his only and only friend, reflects on these words. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his dressing gown moving gently. “Preferable to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For anyone exhausted by the bluster and rat-tat-tat of today’s TV offerings, the show steps in as a foil blanket with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Like its gentle leads, the series – a half-dozen installment comedy written by the writing duo, based on the author’s understated book – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking skeptically over its spectacles toward anything related to unnecessary noise, quick actions or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The program is, instead, an ode to introversion; a gentle tribute of those satisfied to pootle around out of the spotlight. And yet. The character (another sublimely idiosyncratic portrayal by the actor) feels restless. He senses an increasing “desire to unlock the openings in my existence … a little.” The passing of his parent has pulled the carpet from under his slippers and Leonard, an anonymous author, now realizes reconsidering the decisions that directed him to this point (alone; defensively moustached; creating multiple children’s encyclopedias for a boss who ends correspondence using the words “see you later”).

And so Leonard starts himself on a quest for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his close companion, mentor and co-conspirator in a recurring board games evening functioning as both discussion (“Does the pool feel warm because kids pee in it, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The source of the moniker is shrouded in history. It could be that the postal worker previously devoured some food in record time, or answered to a tense moment by nervously peeling four scotch eggs by biting into them).

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 actor) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound audible represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the first episode of this program not heavily plotted and centered around what the under-30s may refer to as “mood”, we are introduced to Paul's father (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who covertly observes, records then replays trivia competitions to dazzle his devoted partner using his trivia skills.

Leading the audience throughout this gentle kindness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Indeed, the celebrity. In case you're considering, “certainly the presence of a big-name celebrity contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a diversion?” you would be correct. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and phrases like “The issue with Leonard is his absence of an expression of discovery” help ensure that first reservations give way if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. The show's core is well-intentioned: that place is “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, indicating the duck it loves.” The program that moves gently in comfortable attire, at times staring toward the sky, occasionally down at its slippers, calmly assured that no experience is in the world as uplifting as spending time alongside dear pals.

Unlock the entryways of your life, slightly, and allow it entry.