The second series of the dark comedy won’t win back those who left the comedian behind two or three sitcoms ago I should probably preface this one by admitting that I think Ricky Gervais is funny. A weirdly divisive statement to make these days, and one I am about to caveat thoroughly, but I think that any review of Gervais’s work – and it is impossible to take Ricky Gervais (the concept) out of any show featuring Ricky Gervais (actor, writer, creator) – needs to state where you are, on him, as a person. So: The Office was a masterwork, I think his naughty-but-actually-not Golden Globes monologues are good and he tweets too much about rescuing dogs for my personal tastes but I know it comes from a place of sweetness. There. Now, to After Life (Netflix, from Friday 24 April), which is not for me. Again it feels necessary to set out a stall: I am one of those males who is irreparably damaged by watching The Office at a formative age. My speaking-voice intonation is Brentian. I can only talk to many of my