If you're a comedy fan, you probably know Emmy Award winner Hannah Gadsby from their comedy specials Nanette and Douglas, both of which streamed on Netflix after stage runs. And now Gadsby is back with a new show, WOOF!, which opened at Off-Broadway's Abron Arts Center October 6 following runs at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Austin, Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia, and other cities. The show is directed by Gadsby's spouse Jenney Shamash, and produced by Mike Lavoie and Carlee Briglia.

Running through October 27, WOOF! is mostly about Gadsby's experience processing grief following the death of their father—or perhaps their failed attempts at avoiding that. But as it turns out, the show didn't fully get that focus until not that long ago, shortly before the Off-Broadway run began. Playbill recently caught up with Gadsby to chat about how WOOF! went from being a show about a dog, to a diva, to, now, their father. 

The conversation below has been edited for length and clarity.

Where did you get the title for this newest show, WOOF!?
Hannah Gadsby: Originally, the show had a lot of dog content in it, as is my wont, because my dog died at the beginning of last year. There was a sort of double grief going on there. But then I let the dog go, so now it’s cold war. We don’t know why. We don’t need to know why. I do think it’s also a satisfying exclamation for the world.

The show has a lot about you grieving your dad. How has doing this show helped you with that process?
I think it’s been good. My avoidance has really shaped the show. I thought that I was going to do a portrait of my dad, and then I got locked into a different show. The show has pretty much done what it wants to do, as opposed to me imposing my ideas on it. I’m really fond of this show, or at least I have a different relationship with this show than I do my other ones, where I felt like I was in real control. This one has become its own beast, and I quite like that. It keeps it live every night.

But has the external performing helped you process that grief on the inside?
I think this show has helped me to put words around things. I tend to perform first, and then the writing comes in and I tighten and add flourishes. I always start with tone, and I wanted this one to be a less heavy tone. I think the grief I’m experiencing is one of life’s fundamentals. I didn’t want to center it as an, "Oh my god, this is so big and huge." Because it’s not. Death is the cost of living. And this has become a great place to keep the memory alive. After someone dies, the world just moves on in a rush, because that’s the way the world moves. By doing this show, holding on to this… I think that lengthening the grief gives a mental lightening at the end, a bit of connection to the world.

You say in the show that social media is “where neurotypical people go to experience the worst of autism.” Tell me about about that, and your own experience of social media as a person with autism.
The idea of social media has always felt a bit weird to me. But sometimes when I dip in, I watch how people chat to each other in the comments. I’m like, "This is parallel chat." It’s almost dogmatic. I think it’s made me really appreciate the importance of non-verbal clues, which just disappear on social media. The non-verbals are something I’ve worked really hard on understanding, because it’s always been the things that I’ve missed in real-life interactions. That’s where that observation came from. I’m not real great on social media, but we’ll just keep going for as long as we can.

Has the show always been centered around your father?
The earliest version was actually more about Barbra Streisand. The embryonic stage of WOOF! was December of last year. I just put on a few trial shows, throwing stuff out. I was in a special place then. I was reading letters I’d written to Barbra Streisand. I had listened to the audio book of her memoir, and I was obsessed. I think it’s one of the great experiences I’ve had, hearing her read it. There are two things that stayed in the show from that version. The first is references to potatoes. Barbra Streisand loves potatoes. She talks more about potatoes than she does Marlon Brando. And the other thing is a dusty pink rug—her favorite color is dusty pink. I used to have the rug onstage, but now it’s backstage, so she’s still in the show a little bit.

At that point I was exploring parasocial relationships, because I get confused by them. I don’t always understand who I’m talking to. I thought it would be interesting to explore a parasocial relationship being witnessed by people who are having a parasocial relationship with me. Maybe one day I’ll pick that back up again.

And then, I thought I’d paint a portrait of my father, but then I had a panic attack and thought maybe I’m not ready for that. The show has been circling ever since, waiting for the right time for me to talk about this stuff. As it happens, I just sort of discovered that as we were opening in New York. Every iteration of the show is fresh.

You end—if you can call it ending—denying your audience closure. Tell me more about your relationship to closure.
I’ve always been good at ending my shows with a button. It’s kind of a calling card of mine. I like leaving the audience feeling that there’s a button, and it’s satisfying. In comedy, it’s a real skill that I delight in, to feel like I’ve earned that. This show was so elusive, searching for that closure. And for this New York run, I just thought perhaps I need to accept that there isn’t any closure, which is part of what grief is. Your horizon just changes, and you have to deal with it.

You also talk a lot about your obsession with whales, so inquiring minds want to know: What would you ask whales if you could communicate with them?
I would ask whales about time, like, how do they experience time? I have a lot of trouble understanding time and the passage of time. It’s not linear in my head. So I wonder if maybe whales and I have something in common there.

After New York, WOOF! will play in London, Paris, Amsterdam, and Los Angeles. Tickets are at HannahGadsby.com.au.