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In a quiet suburb of the city, a person can be found in his driveway, dressed in a sleeveless jumper and voicing his thoughts. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” states the main character, looking into the darkness. “Circumstances have evolved and now I believe unless I take action, I will continue in this simple, peaceful routine.” His friend Paul, his only confidant, considers these words. “There's no harm in that,” he replies, his bathrobe flapping in the breeze. “Preferable to trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For those weary by the noise and rat-tat-tat of modern television landscape, the show steps in similar to a cozy wrap and warming mug of a sweet cordial.

In line with its harmless protagonists, this comedy – a six-part show created by its authors, based on the author’s subtle book – takes a dim view toward today's world; looking critically above its spectacles on everything in the way of disturbances, sudden movements or – goodness forbid – an abundance of ambition. This show is, instead, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage for those satisfied to pootle around away from attention. And yet. He (one more distinctly original portrayal by the actor) is uneasy. He senses a creeping “urge to throw open the entryways within my world … slightly.” The recent death of his mother has whisked the rug from under his slippers and Leonard, an anonymous author, now feels questioning the paths that directed him to his current situation (unattached; with a protective mustache; creating several educational volumes for an employer who signs off emails using the words “goodbye for now”).

And so Leonard launches an exploration for personal satisfaction, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his confidante, life coach and partner during their regular game night functioning as both discussion (“Does the pool feel warm from kids relieving themselves, or do kids pee in it because it’s warm?”) and sanctuary.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? The reason is unknown. The source of this name seems forgotten in mystery. It could be that Paul on one occasion consumed some food in record time, or responded to an awkward situation by nervously peeling four scotch eggs using his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts a vibrant character (the actress), a fresh spring-loaded associate who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of his terrible supervisor (Paul Reid) at a fire practice. That whooshing sound you can hear signals Leonard's peaceful routine being turned upside down.

In another part in the first episode of the comedy not heavily plotted and more on what a modern audience may refer to as “atmosphere”, viewers encounter Paul's father (the ever-wonderful the performer), a tired character who covertly observes, tapes and rewatches trivia competitions to amaze his loving spouse using his trivia skills.

Leading the audience throughout this gentle kindness is a narrator that sounds very much like – and, indeed, very much is – the Hollywood icon. Truly, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “surely the inclusion of such a famous actor clashes with the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as a distraction?” you're right. Still, Roberts does a good job, and phrases for example “Leonard’s problem is his absence of a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that first reservations fade if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

No more criticism for now. The show's core is well-intentioned: which is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out the duck it loves.” The program that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up at the stars, at other times looking at its feet, quietly confident that there is nothing in life as heartening as spending time alongside good friends.

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