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In a calm suburb of the city, a man can be found on the pavement, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his concerns. “It seems like myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” says the main character, staring into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and currently it seems without a change, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, his only companion, ponders the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his robe moving with the wind. “Superior to striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone exhausted by the noise and constant stimulation of current streaming offerings, this series comes similar to a cozy wrap and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its quiet characters, this comedy – a six-part program developed by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the novelist’s subtle 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; gazing critically over its prematurely middle-aged glasses at anything related to unnecessary noise, sudden movements or – perish the thought – too much drive. The series on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage of those happy to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. He (another sublimely idiosyncratic turn by the actor) feels restless. He feels an increasing “need to open the doors and windows of my life … just a bit.” The passing of his parent has whisked the rug out from under him and Leonard, an anonymous author, now realizes doubting the paths that directed him to his current situation (single; sporting facial hair; working on multiple educational volumes for an employer who ends emails with the phrase “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard starts an exploration for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) functioning as his trusted friend, guide and ally during their regular gaming session functioning as both symposium (“Is the pool warm because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it as it's heated?”) and refuge.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of the nickname seems forgotten to the mists of time. Maybe Paul previously devoured some food very fast, or responded to an awkward situation by hastily opening several snacks with his teeth).

Arriving in Leonard's calm existence bursts Shelley (the actress), a new energetic co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to kill his terrible supervisor (the character) during the office fire drill. The swift movement noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine undergoing a shake-up.

In another part in the initial show of a series focused less on story and more by what younger viewers could describe as “mood”, viewers encounter the older generation (the consistently great Lorcan Cranitch), a battered sofa of a man who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches television game programs to impress his devoted partner with his general knowledge.

Shepherding viewers amidst this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, the star. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the inclusion of a major Hollywood star contradicts the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you're right. However, Roberts does a good job, and lines such as “Leonard’s problem is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that early misgivings fade if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

But that’s enough grumbling for now. The series' spirit is in the right place: the right place being “located on a seat alongside similar shows, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, at times staring at the stars, occasionally down at its slippers, calmly assured that no experience is in the world as cheering as passing time alongside close companions.

Throw open the portals of your life, slightly, and let it in.