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In a peaceful neighborhood of Dublin, a person stands outside his home, sporting a sleeveless jumper and voicing his concerns. “It seems like my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” says the main character, staring into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and at this point it seems without a change, I will continue in this quiet, unremarkable life.” His friend Paul, Leonard’s best and only friend, reflects on the idea. “There's no harm in that,” he answers, his bathrobe swaying gently. “Better than trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For those exhausted by the bluster and constant stimulation of current streaming offerings, this series comes like a cozy wrap and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

In line with its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment show developed by its authors, adapted from the novelist’s subtle story – takes a dim view on contemporary society; peering disapprovingly above its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything that involves unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – heaven forfend – excessive aspiration. The program is, instead, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration for those satisfied to amble along away from attention. However. He (a further distinctly original portrayal from the star) is uneasy. He feels a creeping “need to open the openings of my life … a little.” The loss of his beloved mother has yanked the floor away from his feet and Leonard, a ghost writer, now finds himself questioning the paths which led him to this point (alone; with a protective mustache; creating several children’s encyclopedias for a man who concludes correspondence saying “ciao for now”).

And so Leonard launches himself on a quest to find happiness, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (the actor) functioning as his close companion, mentor and ally in a recurring game night which acts as discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? No idea. The origin of this name appears lost in history. Perhaps Paul previously devoured a sandwich very fast, or responded to a tense moment by panic-peeling some food items using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world cartwheels a new colleague (the performer), a recent spring-loaded associate who happily suggests to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. The rushing noise noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine being turned upside down.

In other scenes in the first episode of this program not heavily plotted and centered around what a modern audience could describe as “atmosphere”, we meet Paul's father (the brilliant Lorcan Cranitch), a tired character who secretly watches, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to impress his devoted partner using his trivia skills.

Guiding us through all this minor-key niceness we hear a narrator who closely resembles – and, indeed, very much is – the famous actress. Yes, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of a major Hollywood star is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and starts off as just a diversion?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, the actress performs admirably, and phrases like “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks an expression of discovery” help ensure that initial doubts fade if not full admiration, then certainly understanding.

But that’s enough grumbling at this time. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: the right place being “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, showing its preferred bird.” The program that ambles along in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up at the stars, sometimes downward at its slippers, calmly assured that there is nothing in life as uplifting as spending time alongside dear pals.

Throw open the portals of your life, slightly, and allow it entry.