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In a quiet area of Dublin, an individual stands on the pavement, dressed in a tank top and expressing his thoughts. “I feel myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” remarks the protagonist, staring into the darkness. “One thing’s led to another and now I believe unless I take action, I will continue in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his only and only friend, reflects on the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his bathrobe flapping in the breeze. “Preferable to striving for recognition and causing harm instead.”

For anyone tired by the noise and rat-tat-tat of modern television landscape, this series steps in like a warm cover and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Like its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-part show created by its authors, inspired by Rónán Hession’s understated book – takes a dim view on contemporary society; peering critically above its spectacles on everything related to loud sounds, abrupt changes or – perish the thought – excessive aspiration. This show is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a quiet celebration for those happy to pootle around below the parapet. However. Leonard (another sublimely idiosyncratic turn from the star) is uneasy. He feels a growing “desire to unlock the openings within my world … just a bit.” The loss of his beloved mother has yanked the floor out from under him and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now realizes doubting the paths that directed him to his current situation (alone; with a protective mustache; working on multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who signs off emails saying “goodbye for now”).

Thus Leonard begins himself on a quest to find happiness, with the slightly bolder Paul (the actor) functioning as his confidante, life coach and partner in a weekly board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? No idea. The source of the nickname is shrouded in history. Perhaps he previously devoured some food in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling four scotch eggs by biting into them).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a new colleague (the performer), a fresh lively co-worker who cheerily offers to kill his terrible supervisor (the character) at a fire practice. The rushing noise audible represents Leonard's calm life being turned upside down.

In other scenes during the opening installment of the comedy driven less by plot and more by what younger viewers might call “mood”, viewers encounter Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the actor), a tired character who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to dazzle his adoring wife through his fact recall.

Leading viewers throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and actually is – the famous actress. Yes, the star. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the presence of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you're right. Still, Roberts acquits herself well, and lines for example “Leonard's challenge is his absence of a ‘eureka’ face” help ensure that initial doubts yield though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism at this time. The show's core has good intentions: the right place being “located on a seat next to the Detectorists, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently wearing its simple clothes, sometimes gazing upward into space, sometimes downward at its feet, quietly confident that nothing is in the world as heartening as passing time with good friends.

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