Diane Morgan

After Life is the latest offering from Ricky Gervais, where he plays widower Tony, a man corroded by grief (staying alive only to feed his dog) who decides to be as obnoxious as he likes and then kill himself, behaviour that he thinks is "like a superpower."

The cast includes Penelope Wilton as a widow, Diane Morgan as Tony's gobby co-worker, and Paul Kaye as a self-satisfied therapist. Apart from videos left by Tony's late wife (a touching Kerry Godliman), the heart is mainly provided by Ashley Jensen as a care-home worker looking after Tony's dad (David Bradley), and Mandeep Dhillon's rookie journalist at the local newspaper where Tony works.

The problem is the wildly swerving tone - from obnoxious to sentimental to caustic to maudlin to pointlessly vile. At one point Tony helps a junkie (Tim Plester) buy enough drugs to kill himself. Ho and ho. This just won't cut it as edgy comedy in the era of Succession, Russian Doll and so much more. After Life worked better during the running joke featuring Tony covering hopeless local stories, such as a boy playing recorders with his nostrils: "Why would people rather be famous for being shit than not famous at all?" This is Gervais's true superpower - as a carping, eye-rolling everyman.

Review: After Life

Followers of Ricky Gervais's work will spot elements form across the CV in his new Netflix series.

After Life review

Ricky Gervais' touching look at grief and the people left behind.

Review: Gervais gets spiny & squishy in After Life

Like its snarky hero, After Life is essentially good-hearted.

Review: After Life, Netflix

What is the new six-part Netflix series from Ricky Gervais? After Life is certainly funny but it is no sitcom. There is too much going on here that isn't funny to file it snugly under that genre. It's not that safety net catch-all "comedy drama" either though. It's something totally unique. And it deserves a category of its own.

Diane Morgan and Maxine Peake interview

Since meeting at a Manchester drama school, the two Boltonians have been desperate to work with each.

How much you enjoyed Philomena Cunk's history of Britain depends on how funny you find Diane Morgan's resting confused face. I find it hilarious. Her interviewees are kind of in on the joke but clearly briefed to take it as seriously as possible. They'll be mid-flow and she will cock her head and drain all the interest from her face. "What's the most political thing that's ever happened?" she asked Robert Peston, who did his best to answer with a straight face. Co-producer Charlie Brooker's fingerprints are everywhere in the way Morgan's vain, poorly informed, easily distracted Cunk operates within a ruthlessly satirical production, which sends up the tropes and clichés of every dodgy documentary and history programme. She might not be the comic creation we need, but she is the one we deserve right now.