Ricky Gervais’ ‘After Life’ Shows The Pain Of Loss In A Beautiful & Frank Way

Where to Stream:

After Life

Powered by Reelgood

Death isn’t an easy subject to discuss in real life. In art, it’s even harder to portray it in all its complicated and ugly reality. Perhaps this is because the loss of a loved one, while a universal experience, is rarely linear. We grieve differently, process loss differently, and ultimately come out the other side as changed people. Still, exploring death and how we come to terms with it is a common motif in literature and in TV and movies, and nothing in recent memory has done so as beautifully as After Life.

The new Netflix series, written and directed by comedian Ricky Gervais, presents somewhat of a conundrum at first glance. Gervais is funny —hilarious even— so imagining him as the grief-stricken widow of a woman who died of cancer is a bit hard to fathom at first. It’s a split-second feeling that quickly dissipates, however, as the show is so immersive, Gervais’ Tony so utterly believable, that you’re all-in before you know it.

Admittedly, After Life won’t be for everyone. It’s a painful and uncomfortable journey than some viewers may find too difficult to complete. Listening to Tony repeatedly talk about his desire to kill himself and seeing him actively contemplate it on several occasions could be triggering for many and devastatingly sad for many others. Watching him aim to find solace (or at least an absence of feeling) in smoking heroin or at the bottom of a bottle is heartbreaking, as is witnessing how little hope he has of ever finding happiness again.

And yet, in the midst of these heavy moments—and make no mistake, there are plenty of them—there are moments of levity, of beauty. Gervais’ acerbic wit finds a welcome home on the show, giving Tony an outlet for his pain and frustration, albeit not in a way that’s very nice for those around him. He’s at times cruel, though his jibes lack true bite as they’re so clearly coming from a dark place and his heart’s not truly in it. In his mind, saying and doing whatever he wants is the only true way to proceed in life because being a good person doesn’t pay off. His wife’s death is evidence of that.

Of course, one can’t simply stop being a good person if that’s who they are at their core. Such is the case with Tony, whose kind heart still keeps on beating despite his desire for it to do otherwise. It’s not for lack of trying, of course. He spends much of the first four episodes of the series going out of his way to be as much of a jerk as possible. He’s hurting so why shouldn’t everyone else? More than that, he insists on desperately trying to self-destruct, only his heart’s not in that either.

After Life is a roller coaster of a series that will likely leave you in tears more times than you’re probably prepared for. At times, these are tears of laughter—there are some very topical, very funny jokes here, especially if you appreciate black comedy—and at others they are tears of commiseration and of sorrow at Tony’s very palpable (and for many viewers, very relatable) suffering.

Finally, though his relationships with the people around him—a sex worker turned close friend, a fellow widower he meets at the cemetery, his brother-in-law (who also happens to be his boss), the woman who cares for his senile father at the local care home—as well as the deep and affectionate bond he shares with his dog, Tony begins to live again. It’s not a sudden epiphany, nor is it a complete one, but slowly the fog of grief begins to lift and he makes a conscious decision to at least try. He discovers the life after the life he once knew with his late wife Lisa and realizes that while it’s different, it can still be good. He can still be good, and isn’t that all we have?

Jennifer Still is a writer and editor from New York who cares too way much about fictional characters and spends her time writing about them.

Stream After Life on Netflix