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In a calm area of the city, a man stands outside his home, sporting a tank top and sharing his thoughts. “It seems like myself getting quieter. Harder to see,” remarks the protagonist, staring into the darkness. “Events have unfolded and now it seems without a change, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his closest companion, ponders these words. “There's no harm in that,” he responds, his bathrobe moving in the breeze. “Preferable to trying to make a mark and ending up damaging things.”

For those exhausted by the chaos and fast pace of modern television offerings, the show steps in like a cozy wrap with a hot drink of Ribena.

Similar to its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-episode program created by its authors, adapted from the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – casts a critical eye toward today's world; looking disapprovingly through its eyewear at anything in the way of unnecessary noise, abrupt changes or – goodness forbid – excessive aspiration. The program is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a gentle tribute for those happy to amble along away from attention. But. Leonard (one more sublimely idiosyncratic turn from Alex Lawther) feels restless. He feels an increasing “urge to throw open the doors and windows in my existence … slightly.” The recent death of his mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and Leonard, a ghost writer, now finds himself questioning the decisions that directed him to this point (single; sporting facial hair; working on multiple children’s encyclopedias for a man who concludes messages with the phrase “see you later”).

Thus Leonard starts an exploration to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing Hungry Paul (the performer) serving as his close companion, mentor and partner during their regular game night that serves both as symposium (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do children urinate since it's warm?”) and refuge.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The beginning of this name seems forgotten in mystery. Perhaps he on one occasion consumed a sandwich unusually quickly, or answered to a socially fraught incident by hastily opening four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world bursts Shelley (the performer), a fresh energetic co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to kill the awful manager (the actor) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In other scenes in the initial show of this program not heavily plotted and centered around what the under-30s could describe as “mood”, we are introduced to the older generation (the ever-wonderful the actor), a battered sofa of a man who privately views, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to amaze his devoted partner through his fact recall.

Guiding us throughout this minor-key niceness is a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the star. Should you wonder, “certainly the inclusion of such a famous actor clashes with the program's low-key style and starts off as just a distraction?” that's accurate. Nevertheless, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue like “Leonard’s problem is that he lacks an expression of discovery” contribute to ensuring that first reservations give way if not full admiration, then at least acceptance.

But that’s enough grumbling currently. The series' spirit is in the right place: that place is “sitting on a park bench next to the Detectorists, indicating its favourite duck.” It’s a series that strolls leisurely in comfortable attire, sometimes gazing upward into space, sometimes downward toward the ground, quietly confident that there is nothing in life as uplifting as passing time in the company of close companions.

Open the doors and windows within your world, just a bit, and allow it entry.