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In a peaceful neighborhood of the city, a person is standing in his driveway, wearing a sleeveless jumper and sharing his thoughts. “It seems like I'm becoming more silent. Harder to see,” remarks the main character, looking up at the night sky. “Events have unfolded and currently I feel like unless I take action, my life will proceed in this minor, harmless existence.” Paul, his closest companion, reflects on this statement. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his bathrobe moving in the breeze. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and causing harm instead.”

For anyone exhausted by the chaos and rat-tat-tat of today’s TV terrain, this series comes like a foil blanket with a hot drink of Ribena.

Like its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-episode program written by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, inspired by the novelist’s quiet book – casts a critical eye at modern life; peering disapprovingly above its eyewear toward anything that involves disturbances, sudden movements or – perish the thought – too much drive. The series is, instead, an ode to introversion; a quiet celebration to people satisfied to pootle around below the parapet. However. Leonard (another uniquely quirky turn by the actor) is unsettled. He notices a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways of my life … just a bit.” The loss of his parent has yanked the floor out from under him and this young man, an anonymous author, now finds himself doubting the paths that directed him to this point (unattached; sporting facial hair; writing several children’s encyclopedias for a boss who concludes messages saying “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard starts on a journey for emotional fulfilment, with the slightly bolder Paul (the actor) serving as his close companion, mentor and ally in a recurring board games evening that serves both as symposium (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or is it that kids pee because it’s warm?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the nickname is shrouded in history. Perhaps Paul on one occasion consumed a sandwich very fast, or answered to a tense moment by hastily opening several snacks using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a vibrant character (the performer), a recent spring-loaded associate who cheerily offers to eliminate his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. The rushing noise audible is Leonard’s gentle world experiencing a revolution.

In another part in the first episode of a series driven less by plot and more on what younger viewers might call “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who privately views, tapes and rewatches daytime quiz shows to dazzle his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Leading the audience throughout this subtle warmth there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. In case you're considering, “surely the presence of a big-name celebrity is at odds with the program's low-key style and at first acts merely as a diversion?” you would be correct. However, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue such as “The issue with Leonard is that he lacks a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that early misgivings yield if not full admiration, then at minimum tolerance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart has good intentions: the right place being “resting on a bench alongside similar shows, pointing out its favourite duck.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward into space, sometimes downward at its slippers, quietly confident that no experience is on Earth as cheering as being in the company of good friends.

Open the doors and windows in your existence, just a bit, and allow it entry.