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In a calm suburb of the city, a person is standing in his driveway, sporting a sleeveless jumper and sharing his thoughts. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” says the main character, staring up at the night sky. “One thing’s led to another and at this point I feel like without a change, I will continue in this minor, harmless existence.” His friend Paul, his closest companion, reflects on this statement. “Nothing wrong with that,” he responds, his bathrobe flapping gently. “Better than trying to make a mark only to wind up defacing it.”

For viewers weary by the chaos and fast pace of today’s TV offerings, the show comes as a foil blanket and warming mug of Ribena.

Similar to its quiet characters, the series – a half-dozen installment comedy created by the writing duo, adapted from the author’s quiet story – looks disapprovingly toward today's world; peering skeptically through its eyewear at anything in the way of disturbances, quick actions or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The series is, instead, a tribute to quiet people; a gentle tribute of those satisfied to wander away from attention. And yet. The character (a further distinctly original portrayal by the actor) feels restless. He senses a growing “urge to throw open the openings within my world … a little.” The passing of his mother has pulled the carpet out from under him and the 32-year-old, a ghost writer, now feels questioning the decisions which led him to this point (single; defensively moustached; creating multiple kids' reference books for a boss who ends messages saying “see you later”).

Thus Leonard starts an exploration to find happiness, alongside his more outgoing Paul (the actor) acting as his close companion, mentor and ally in a recurring game night that serves both as symposium (“Does the pool feel warm because kids pee in it, or do kids pee in it since it's warm?”) and sanctuary.

(How did Paul get his nickname? It's unclear. The beginning of the moniker is shrouded in mystery. Perhaps the postal worker on one occasion consumed some food very fast, or answered to an awkward situation by nervously peeling some food items by biting into them).

Entering Leonard's quiet life bursts Shelley (the performer), a fresh energetic associate who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (Paul Reid) in a workplace safety exercise. That whooshing sound noticeable signals Leonard's peaceful routine experiencing a revolution.

Elsewhere in the initial show of the comedy driven less by plot and more on what the under-30s might call “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the brilliant the performer), a tired character who secretly watches, saves and reviews trivia competitions to amaze his adoring wife using his trivia skills.

Guiding viewers through all this minor-key niceness there is a voiceover who closely resembles – and actually is – the Hollywood icon. Yes, the star. If you are thinking, “undoubtedly the use of a big-name celebrity clashes with the program's low-key style and initially serves only as an interruption?” you're right. Still, the actress performs admirably, and phrases such as “Leonard's challenge is that he lacks a ‘eureka’ face” contribute to ensuring that first reservations give way though not complete approval, then certainly understanding.

Enough complaining at this time. The series' spirit has good intentions: which is “located on a seat in the company of gentle comedies, pointing out its preferred bird.” This is a show that strolls leisurely in its sleeveless jumper, occasionally looking up toward the sky, at other times looking toward the ground, calmly assured that there is nothing in the world as cheering as passing time with good friends.

Throw open the portals within your world, just a bit, and allow it entry.