After life…there came Ted
I watch a lot of television, and listen to a lot as I’m doing other things. In fact, sometimes just the sound of the TV as background noise is all that I need. Some would say that it’s a waste of time, that I should be doing other things more constructive rather than watching the box. If it wasn’t for television being a constant in my life, I wouldn’t have been able to witness such televisual delights as Vic Reeves Big Night, leading to Shooting Stars and then Gone Fishing. I’d have missed the Most Haunted Live specials, the twenty seasons of Ghost Adventures and the lockdown specials. And Richard Osman’s House of Games may have passed me by.
The changing face of television over the years has made it easier to find something to watch, no matter what time of day or night. I’m sure that it would be possible to plan a night of television taken straight out of the 1987 Radio Times just by jumping around the cable and satellite channels. The only shows that I’ve not been able to track down are Moonlighting and old episodes of Tomorrows World, everything else seems to be quite easy to find.
When we’ve had our fill of the repeats on Dave, Ghost Adventures or Forged in Fire (a favourite during lockdown) there are the streaming services that superfast Cornish broadband has given us the opportunity to take advantage of. There’s Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney and Discovery Plus to increase the multitude of options available at the touch of a button, not to mention other less well known apps, and catch up services. If it wasn’t for the fact that I had to work and sleep, I’d even be able to get up to date with The Walking Dead.
These new services have added choice, and lots of it. There are reportedly in the region of 17,000 films alone on Netflix with hundreds of categories. With countless television series available too, it’s almost impossible not to find something to watch. Even if it is a French arthouse animation about the lifecycle of raindrop.
With the vast array of television and film on offer, it is inevitable that there are some stinkers. For every Jean de Florette there are another ten like Sailing for Love. With every Saving Private Ryan, balance must come from the Fast and Furious franchise. However, every now and again, there comes along a gem that becomes an instant classic.
Streaming services are now producing more original content as ever before and film makers and show runners are choosing to release their wares on the internet rather than mainstream channels or at the cinema. It’s so easy to miss these new classics if you can’t, or won’t pay, for the various subscriptions that you need. If you want to keep up with the Ghost Adventures investigations or the Marvel multiverse then you have no choice but pay, but sometimes it really is worth it.
Two shows in particular, in my opinion, have stood head and shoulders above the rest. Two very different shows, both funny and well written, dealing with some serious subjects amongst the laughs and whimsy. They are Afterlife and Ted Lasso.
Afterlife, as I’m sure a lot of people know, was written by Ricky Gervais and although it is unmistakably a Gervais vessel, its subject matter is still not the usual source of comedy and laughs. Cancer, death, grief, loneliness, mental health, suicide, dementia…in anybody else’s hands it could’ve been a disaster. But, what Ricky has always been good at is pushing the boundaries of what is funny, finding humour in things that others would avoid like the plague.
In a lot of ways, Afterlife is the culmination of years of work. From The Office, Extras, Life’s Too Short through to his stand-up shows. Even with the XFM radio shows, The Eleven O’clock Show and his own chat show all those years ago, there has always been an edge, a mischievousness. If there was a line to cross, then crossing it was what he would do. Something that I also like to do – in the right company, that is.
I’ve always been fan of Rickys, appreciating the dark humour that he finds in life. I’m forever making jokes about the predicament that I find myself in at the moment, often being told off for being inappropriate. If I couldn’t find the funny in moments of stress or darkness then I think that I’d drive myself mad. And that’s what Afterlife manages to do. It draws out humour from moments of sadness and grief.
Like with The Office it can sometimes be a difficult watch, the awkwardness that is so often a part of Ricky’s comedy is painful at times. But, this is what life is like. It isn’t a documentary, but almost every day in our lives there will be something odd or unusual that happens that will make us laugh or smile. Sit-coms just turn that up a notch or two.
Ricky’s character, Tony, has lost his wife to cancer and is consumed with grief, feeling as though his own life has as good as ended too. Without Lisa he is simply a shell, happiness just a distant memory that he would revisit by way of watching old home videos. The death of his wife, the love of his life, has changed him.
It’s easy to become frustrated and annoyed by his attitude, his new superpower was to say and do what he wanted and to hell with the consequences. But like his friends and colleagues who knew the man before, we see from the home movie clips the change in him. Devastated by grief, fueled by anger and bitterness at how unfair life can be. At times it is hard to be sympathetic as he seems intent on dragging people down with him, mistaking cruelty for honesty. There are, however, moments of kindness that shine through that give us hope that Tony can recover to some extent.
The supporting characters throughout the three series play an important role too, having their own issues to deal with along the way. Each of them play an important part in Tony’s redemption, even if they all at some point suffer the brunt of his anger and bitterness.
Afterlife is brutal and bleak and at times difficult to watch. There are moments when you can feel Tony’s pain and anguish, understand his grief. You grow frustrated with the way that he treats those around him, his friends and concerned family who are only trying to help. He fights against moving on, feeling as though a life without Lisa is not a life worth living.
Since first appearing on our TV screens, Ricky Gervais has always been willing to nudge at the boundaries, seeing how far he can cross over acceptable lines before his trademark laugh breaks. He seems to revel in joking about subjects that most people would avoid, the risk of being cancelled never an issue for him. Whilst Afterlife isn’t as dark as some of his most recent stand up, it is at the other end of the spectrum compared to The Office.
But, through the darkness and uncomfortable moments, there are a lot of laughs too; it is after all a sitcom. And there are many touching moments also, some telegraphed and some more subtle that can take you off guard. One such moment happens in the first series, a simple squeeze of Tony’s shoulder by his brother-in-law that, for some reason, choked me. It was a small show of care, of love, for Tony when he was almost at his lowest. I would imagine that it was scripted, it’s that sort of attention to detail that made The Office such a classic. Ricky always seems to find little moments of humanity like that.
Ricky likes a beginning, middle and an end, so it was always going to be the case that series three would tie up the loose ends one way or another. I’m not going to offer any spoilers, but will warn you that I had to stop the final episode midway through and watch it alone as I cried like a baby at one point. Maybe it was due to the emotional state that I was already in, I can’t be sure…
The tone of Afterlife and its subject matter was dark and yet there is this underlying sense of hope as Tony slowly comes through his despair and realises that some good can still come from life. Although Lisa’s death was both cruel and untimely, leaving him lonely, grief-stricken and devastated beyond words, there are lessons to be learned from Tony’s journey. Don’t get me wrong; this is no It’s a Wonderful Life! But it might just be Ricky Gervais’s version.
As the coronavirus struck in 2020 and the world went into lockdown, streaming services really came into their own. When you ran out of books to read and board games to play, jigsaw puzzles were solved and conversation exhausted, boxsets were there to be binged. Afterlife series two came early into the pandemic, bringing with it the expected balance between dark and light. But during the lockdown, where everything was closed and we were only allowed outside for an hour of exercise or shopping for essential supplies, we needed something to raise our spirits. Of course, we all watched the Tiger King documentary. Who doesn’t love a true crime story about a flamboyant zoo owning, would be murderer? What we needed, however, was a hero. And luckily for us, we found one.
Ted Lasso was created to promote the English Premier League in the USA where matches were being shown on the NBC network. The sketches that they created played on the fish-out-of-water nature of an American Football coach being employed by a top flight soccer team in the UK. By the time that Ted had been commissioned he had become so much more than a spoof, a parody. He was the moustachioed breath of fresh air that we had been crying out for.
I think it would be fair to say that it had the potential to be a disaster. Transferring the character from the NBC promos and creating a series based on this premise was risky; English football has always been a very niche area and we are very protective over it and its eccentricities. Like the fans of AFC Richmond in the show, we were sceptical. Soon enough, we found out that we were in safe hands.
The Ted Lasso team are a talented bunch, every area of the production dripping with quality, with Bill Lawrence, the man behind Scrubs, at the helm. The writing is exemplary, and the characters are perfectly formed. What could have easily sunk without trace has become an instant classic.
Jason Sudeikis has created a character that is immensely likeable, even though Teds positivity is not something that we in England embrace very often. This is even addressed when he is angered (as much as Ted can be) by the phrase ‘It’s the hope that kills you’ used by the Richmond fans.
The other cast members are also perfectly formed, and Like Ted, have many layers. There are no caricatures, not really, and we quickly become invested in their lives. Brett Goldstein, Hannah Waddingham, Brendan Hunt, Juno Temple, Nick Mohammad, Jeremy Swift, Phil Dunster, Tohib Jimoh and the rest of the cast all played such a big role in making Ted Lasso such a refreshing example television comedy at its best.
It is rare for television to be so unashamedly positive and heartwarming these days, it’s almost unfashionable. But Ted, the man, and Ted, the show, make no apologies for it.
Don’t think that the show will be a walk in the park, though. Whilst it has its whimsy, and extremely funny moments there are also parts that tug at the heartstrings. It is a football based sitcom, but it also deals with real issues around relationships, family and mental health. Ted himself hides his own problems behind the wall of positivity that he builds for his team, and we root for him. We want him to win, to succeed. We want everybody to see him as the hero that he so clearly is.
It’s not always easy to predict success, even with such a talented pool of actors, writers and showrunners. Critics and fans alike seem to have taken Ted to their hearts, though, winning plaudits and awards from both sides of the Atlantic. Sometimes it is all about timing. The planets aligning. Ted Lasso appeared in our lives just when we needed him. Just when I needed him.
On the face of it, Ted Lasso and Afterlife are different entities completely, and it is true that they are polar opposites in terms of tone. There is a similar theme that runs through both though, tenuous as it may be.
Hope. Kindness.
And whilst Tony in Afterlife is struggling to find his way, almost wallowing in his own grief and despair, Ted often hides his own pain and frailties to ensure that those around him are okay. He’s a legend…an inspiration. But that’s not for him to say.