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In a calm suburb of the city, a person can be found outside his home, sporting a tank top and expressing his feelings. “I feel my voice is fading. Less noticeable,” remarks Leonard, gazing toward the stars. “Circumstances have evolved and currently it seems unless I take action, I’ll just carry on in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his only and only friend, considers the idea. “That's perfectly fine,” he answers, his bathrobe swaying gently. “Superior to striving for recognition and ending up damaging things.”

For viewers weary by the bluster and constant stimulation of today’s TV offerings, the show steps in like a foil blanket and warming mug of Ribena.

Like its gentle leads, this comedy – a half-dozen installment comedy written by its authors, inspired by the author’s subtle 2019 novel – takes a dim view toward today's world; gazing skeptically through its prematurely middle-aged glasses toward anything in the way of loud sounds, quick actions or – heaven forfend – too much drive. This show on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage of those happy to amble along out of the spotlight. And yet. He (another distinctly original turn from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He senses an increasing “urge to throw open the doors and windows within my world … a little.” The recent death of his beloved mother has yanked the floor from under his slippers and Leonard, a ghost writer, now feels questioning the choices that directed him to his current situation (alone; with a protective mustache; creating multiple educational volumes for an employer who ends messages saying “see you later”).

Therefore Leonard launches on a journey for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver Hungry Paul (Laurie Kynaston) serving as his confidante, guide and co-conspirator in a weekly game night that serves both as symposium (“Is the pool warm from kids relieving themselves, or is it that kids pee as it's heated?”) and safe space.

(Why “Hungry” Paul? It's unclear. The source of this name is shrouded in history. Perhaps Paul once ate a snack very fast, or responded to a tense moment by panic-peeling some food items using his teeth).

Into Leonard’s gentle world comes a new colleague (the actress), a new lively colleague who happily suggests to eliminate Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) during the office fire drill. That whooshing sound you can hear is Leonard’s gentle world being turned upside down.

In another part in the first episode of a series not heavily plotted and centered around what a modern audience could describe as “atmosphere”, we are introduced to the older generation (the consistently great the actor), a tired character who privately views, saves and reviews daytime quiz shows to amaze his adoring wife with his general knowledge.

Shepherding the audience through all this subtle warmth is a narrator that is unmistakably – and truly is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. If you are thinking, “surely the use of a big-name celebrity contradicts the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as a distraction?” that's accurate. However, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue such as “Leonard's challenge is the missing a look of sudden insight” contribute to ensuring that first reservations fade though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

No more criticism for now. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is in the right place: that place is “resting on a bench in the company of gentle comedies, showing its preferred bird.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, sometimes gazing upward at the stars, occasionally down toward the ground, serenely certain that no experience is in the world as uplifting as spending time alongside dear pals.

Throw open the portals in your existence, slightly, and let it in.