After Life, which debuts on Netflix Friday, stars Ricky Gervais as Tony, a journalist whose wife’s death drives him into a suicidal depression. Instead of killing himself, Tony comes up with a better idea: he’ll punish the world for his devastating loss by acting like a total jerk, saying and doing whatever he wants from that moment on. The set up prompts an obvious question: isn’t this pretty much what Ricky Gervais, whose comedy makes light of trans people, obesity, and dead babies, is known for doing anyway?

But beyond the surface similarities, After Life is a comedy with some real depth—and Gervais treats his character’s sorrow with nuance and compassion. Some of the show’s heavier elements never quite gel, and those who aren’t fans of the brash comedian’s style will probably dislike some of Tony’s more noxious habits. On the whole, however, it’s a series that showcases not only the comedian’s knack for capturing petty annoyances, but also the little things about humanity that bring him—or his character, at least—joy.

Gervais has been a household name practically since the 2001 premiere of the original British version of The Office, which he wrote and directed with Stephen Merchant, and has been a fixture of the TV and comedy scene ever since. Like other similarly tenured comedians, he’s been accused of refusing to grow with the times. In particular, Gervais been called out on multiple occasions for invoking transphobic stereotypes—a subject he tackled in his 2018 Netflix special Humanity, which opens with an extended bit in which Gervais insists that a notorious joke he made at the 2016 Golden Globes (“I’m going to be nice; I’ve changed. Not as much as Bruce Jenner, obviously. . . now Caitlyn Jenner, of course”) was not actually offensive. Even as he defends himself in the special, Gervais tries to have it both ways—asserting his innocence in one breath, comparing trans people to humans who want to be turned into chimpanzees in the next. In a recent interview with V.F., the comedian doubled down on the paradox—maintaining that while his onstage persona does not necessarily reflect his true beliefs, he also believes “you mustn’t worry about what the stupidest people think of your joke. You must know, ‘Well, this is for me and like-minded people.’”

More than anything, Gervais has just one primary concern: think what you like about what he says or jokes about, he says, as long as you’re considering his words in context. So perhaps it’s best to let Gervais himself explain his views—about himself, his show, his humor, and Louis C.K.

Vanity Fair: How did you come up the concept for this new series—how you wanted it all to play out?

Ricky Gervais: Usually, everything else I’ve done has come from a character within me—like, David Brent sort of preceded The Office by a couple of years. This time, the concept came first, rather like a movie or a novel: imagine if a man had nothing to lose. He could say what he wanted in this world where you shouldn’t say what you’re thinking anymore. I suppose that was the other part of it—that I’ve been drawn into discussions about free speech more and more recently. I’ve always thought that was a given. I just thought that was a fundamental principle of human rights, but apparently it’s arguable.

The original concept was a man we’d describe as a sort of verbal vigilante. Not for fun, because he wanted to clean the streets up or make societies better. Because he was in grief, and he just wanted to make himself feel better for a split second. He’s lashing out. He’s basically a bear in a trap. Nice people are trying to free the bear, but the bear thinks it’s another person trying to hurt him. That was the first thing.