Hours before I met comedian Hannah Gadsby at a coffee shop in Manhattan, news hit that Eurydice Dixon , an up-and-coming Australian comic, had been raped and murdered while walking home alone from a bar show in Melbourne.

Gadsby was, in her own words, shaken. I didnt know her, but 12 yrs ago I was negotiating the world the same way as she was, she later tweeted . My deepest condolences to her family.

Gadsby is accustomed to talking about difficult, painful topics. Her latest stand-up special Nanette, which hit Netflix on Tuesday, broaches subjects like the Me Too movement and the homophobia shes encountered as a lesbian. Throughout the dynamic hour, she tumbles from deadpan jokes about how the gay pride flag is a bit busy to unabashedly calling out sexual abusers such as Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein and even Pablo Picasso.

Its undoubtedly funny, with dry bits about the mundane you find yourself repeating days later. But its the shows twist that jolts the audience into a new perception of what a comedian can do onstage.

Halfway through the special, an underlying tension comes to the surface when Gadsby reveals that a real-life scenario shed outlined earlier didnt end with the happy punchline shed delivered. Instead of recounting how she supposedly mocked the ignorance of a man who, after mistaking Gadsby for male, wanted to beat her up for talking to his girlfriend, Gadsby admits that he actually attacked her.

Pulling back the curtain on her own self-deprecating material about sexuality, gender and violence, she proceeds to deconstruct her stand-up, issuing forceful calls to action to her comedy peers in the process. Several times, she lets her audience fall to a hush.

In Nanette, Gadbsy is undeniably angry, but her tone suits the times.

I wouldnt have been able to do this without my 10 years prior experience [in comedy], so the show is a culmination of my skills, talent and experience. And the fury, Gadsby said. And it didnt get easier, ever. Reliving trauma? Ah, I dont think Id recommend it.