After Life is a dark comedy-drama. It follows Tony, a guy dealing with his wife’s death. He lashes out, saying whatever comes to mind. Grief is tough, but Tony starts to see how his actions impact others. He begins to rethink life choices. It’s a wild ride through laughter and tears, trust me!

Meet the characters from After Life

Tony Johnson

Tony is the kind of character you want to slap and hug at the same time — cranky, funny, utterly wrecked. He deals with grief like it’s a full-time job and his default settings are deadpan sarcasm, low-level cruelty and unexpected tenderness. He says he doesn’t want help but keeps finding reasons to hang around people (and to walk Brandy at ridiculous hours) — also he might be a secret collector of tiny stones, I swear. He’s sharp, stubborn, and somehow still painfully human, the kind of person who will make a terrible joke and then be the one holding your hand.

Matt Braden

Matt is the earnest, slightly flustered type who tries to do the right thing even when he isn’t sure what that is. He feels like the moral compass or at least the group’s text-message-and-worry guy, full of awkward empathy and good intentions. There’s an anxious, overthinking energy about him — he’ll plan three apology notes for one misstep and then do something ridiculous and brave when it matters. Also he’ll drink terrible tea at 3am and loudly confess to liking musicals, then immediately deny it like a sheepish child.

Lenny

Lenny is pure sunbeam energy with a laugh that fills a room and a heart the size of a small country. He does the comic relief but he carries real weight too — quick jokes, slower sorrows, and a loyalty that makes you feel ridiculously safe. He fusses over everyone (sandwiches at funerals are his thing), cries at adverts but swears he “never cries,” which is a lie we all forgive. Tiny weirdness: he collects novelty socks and will absolutely wear them with suits, which is both charming and tragic.

Kath

Kath is the blunt, dry-as-toast woman who manages things and won’t let anyone be pathetic for long — in the best way. She says exactly what she thinks, occasionally brutal, always practical, but underneath there’s a fierce kindness; she remembers birthdays and mends things like it’s a superpower. She’s the kind who will roll her eyes and then bake you a cake when you need it, judge your cardigan and secretly approve of you anyway. Also she claims to hate drama but is quietly addicted to soap operas, which is both predictable and perfect.

Lisa Johnson

Lisa is the warm, luminous center of Tony’s memories — patient, funny, and the kind of presence that makes the ordinary feel golden. In flashbacks she’s gentle but honest, the person whose small gestures become everything later; she left mismatched socks everywhere like a domestic rebel, true story. You get the sense she could calm storms just by being present and also that she’d nick your chips if you weren’t looking. She reads quietly, hums off-key at night, and had absolutely terrible taste in films that Tony pretended to love.

Emma

Emma is quietly steady and observant, the person who notices the tiny details and then quietly sorts everything out for you. Not preachy at all, but she’s got this moral backbone — she’ll make you a perfect cup of tea and then tell you the blunt truth with a smile. She’s awkward in a lovable way, gives slightly embarrassing compliments, and knows disturbing amounts about funeral etiquette (don’t ask how that happened). Also her laugh is this hiccupy, infectious thing that shows up at the worst and best moments and instantly makes the scene softer.

Brandy the Dog

Brandy is essentially a tiny therapist with paws: loyal, opinionated, and excellent at enforcing lap-sitting laws. She looks at Tony like he’s the whole world and also has a personal vendetta against socks, which she will steal with dramatic flair. She snores when excited, judges guests with one long, mournful stare, and somehow fetches exactly the wrong thing at the worst possible moment. Little quirk — she prefers the arm of the sofa to her own bed and will pretend not to hear you call her, like a furry, passive-aggressive teenager.