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In a calm area of the Irish capital, a person stands outside his home, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and expressing his thoughts. “I notice myself getting quieter. More invisible,” states the main character, looking toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and currently it seems if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this quiet, unremarkable life.” Paul, his only confidant, considers this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his bathrobe swaying gently. “Superior to attempting to leave an impact only to wind up defacing it.”

For anyone exhausted by the chaos and constant stimulation of today’s TV offerings, this series comes like a cozy wrap with a hot drink of blackcurrant juice.

Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a six-part show created by its authors, adapted from the novelist’s quiet book – casts a critical eye at modern life; gazing skeptically above its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything that involves loud sounds, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The series rather, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute to people happy to pootle around out of the spotlight. However. He (a further distinctly original turn from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He feels a creeping “need to open the doors and windows of my life … a little.” The recent death of his mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and this young man, a ghost writer, now feels doubting the choices that have brought him to where he is (unattached; sporting facial hair; creating multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who ends emails using the words “ciao for now”).

Therefore Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder friend Paul (the actor) functioning as his close companion, mentor and partner in a recurring gaming session functioning as both symposium (“Does the pool feel warm because kids pee in it, or do children urinate as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of this name seems forgotten to the mists of time. It could be that he previously devoured some food very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by panic-peeling some food items with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a new colleague (the actress), a recent energetic colleague who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of his terrible supervisor (the character) in a workplace safety exercise. The rushing noise you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the first episode of a series not heavily plotted and more on what younger viewers might call “atmosphere”, we are introduced to the older generation (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a worn-out individual who secretly watches, records then replays television game programs to impress his loving spouse with his general knowledge.

Guiding viewers through all this gentle kindness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, Julia Roberts. In case you're considering, “surely the presence of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines such as “Leonard's challenge is the missing an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that initial doubts give way if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

Enough complaining at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: that place is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that moves gently wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward into space, at other times looking at its slippers, quietly confident that there is nothing in the world as uplifting as spending time in the company of close companions.

Unlock the entryways of your life, just a bit, and let it in.