This Man Doesn’t Star in Every Australian TV Show. It Just Seems That Way.

In the relatively cozy confines of Australian television production, it’s not surprising that actors would turn up in one show after another. Especially given how many of them go off to work in the United States. (G’day, Thor.)

Even by Aussie standards, though, Patrick Brammall is busy. And his recent work is all over U.S. streaming video.

On Saturday, Netflix introduces “The Letdown,” a comedy in which Brammall has a choice guest role as a loudly impatient drug dealer. Netflix is home to the two seasons of “Glitch,” a paranormal tale that won Australia’s top drama-series awards and stars Brammall as a small-town cop trying to manage the sudden return of a number of the local dead.

On Hulu, you can see both seasons of the original “No Activity,” a cop comedy he created (with Trent O’Donnell) and starred in, winning an Australian Academy award for best actor. He then brought “No Activity” to the United States, starring in a remake for the CBS All Access streaming site that’s been renewed for a second season. All this multinational creativity has taken place in the past three years. (Six-episode seasons help.)

Brammall is blandly handsome and on the comfy side of fit, with a knack for playing exasperation in both comic and dramatic situations. His characters are harried, generally well-meaning upholders of the establishment, whether a policeman or a dealer outraged over an intrusion on his assigned turf. His American equivalents might include Chris Pratt and Ryan Reynolds, but he hasn’t played superheroes, and any swagger his characters possess is unearned.

In “The Letdown,” his function is to help convey the degradation that motherhood has brought to the life of the heroine, Audrey, played by Alison Bell. (It’s like a middle-class version of Showtime’s “SMILF.”) When she parks on a quiet stretch of street hoping her baby will take a nap, Brammall’s Scott descends on her in a cloud of righteous indignation, demanding that she move. Rather than risk waking up the child, Audrey of course agrees to buy some drugs.

“Glitch” is an entirely different kind of series, a large-ensemble drama predicated on big fuzzy ideas about life, death and destiny in which the separate back stories of multiple characters are rationed out in frequent flashbacks. Brammall plays the turbulent center of the storm, police Constable James, who is called to the cemetery in the first episode because people are clawing out of their graves. One of them is James’ ex-wife, who died four years before (and was the best friend of his new wife).

James spends his time running in desperate circles to preserve the anonymity of the returnees and to protect them from threats that include a curious pharmaceutical corporation, mysterious assassins and an invisible, deadly barrier surrounding the town. The show’s ideas outpace its execution (not unusual in Australian TV), especially in the second season. But it’s not bad as cultish science-fiction curiosities go, with the intellectual suspense balancing the soap-opera mechanics of the returnees tracking down the loose ends of their previous lives.

“No Activity,” clearly the most personal of Brammall’s projects, renders the buddy-cop comedy in sketch form. (His credits also include a sketch-comedy show, “The Elegant Gentleman’s Guide to Knife Fighting,” which is streaming on Netflix and Amazon.) Nearly every scene is a static two-character dialogue, between pairs of cops, dispatchers, small-time crooks and, in Season 2, trussed-up husband-and-wife kidnap victims.

As the title implies, there’s virtually no action — the show consists of the meandering, generally pointless, often smutty conversations that take place while the characters wait for something to happen. (Perhaps reflecting the enclosed spaces and immobility, there’s a lot of talk about masturbation.) The primary talkers are Brammall and Darren Gilshenan as Hendy and Stokes, marginally competent detectives on an endless stakeout, constantly promised by unseen handlers that “someone big” is about to show up.

Brammall is, per usual, the straight man, offering futile protests in response to Stokes’ winsomely idiotic and offensive riffs. The tables turn in one episode, though, when Stokes is replaced in the car by a taciturn American (played by Jake Johnson of “New Girl”). Trying for sophisticated small talk, Hendy stumbles onto race as a topic, and Brammall, with crack timing, stutters out the thoughts of the Australian Everyman: “I know you have to be very sensitive about that thing in your country because you shoot the black — you shoot the people — you shoot people of various ethnic — all sorts.”