Making art can be a painful process. We know this from the many, many stories, films, poems, portraits and other things that tell us this. In a world that insists we donate all of our energy and waking hours to productivity, art becomes this way because sometimes, it doesn’t make a profitable product. It makes a feeling, or a happening, or a scream into the dark. Sometimes, the “utility” of art is just in continuing to make it, see it and love it, despite everything else.
Bananaland, the latest musical from the writing team behind the five-star hit Muriel’s Wedding: the Musical, (Australia’s Eurovision darling Kate Miller-Heidke and her partner/collaborator Keir Nuttall) follows Kitty Litter, a punk rock protest band (or, “onstage conceptual art slash music-oriented happening”) who’s been making their art for four years without any identifiable “success”. Frontwoman Ruby Semblance (played by Max McKenna, the original onstage Muriel and a stand-out star of Jagged Little Pill the Musical) lives and breathes this “happening” and refuses to compromise any of her values for the eight-ticket-per-gig audiences that just don’t “get” her songs. The rest of the band is made up of her big sister Karen (Georgina Hopson), her lover Seb (Joe Kalou), “X” (Maxwell Simon – not her ex, just “X”), and the brooding silent Terry/s (times two, played as blankly as possible by Steve Pope and Amanda Jenkins). They have exactly one devoted fan, who they’ve affectionately nicknamed Stephen King (Chris Ryan).
Bananaland is for the Wiggles-loving kid inside all of us – even the art snobs.
Then, in Manhattan (Goondiwindi) a matinee show sells out, and Kitty Litter performs an elaborate execution of a consumerist pig (complete with hilarious piggy ears and a giant sword) to the horrified screams of a bunch of four-year-olds and their parents. There are tears, also vomit. The children’s music charts have caught wind of ‘Bananaland’, an anti-corruption anthem, and misinterpreted it as a kid-pop tune. Ruby and the gang face an impossible choice – do they stay true to themselves, or “sell out” and convert into a kids’ band?
Bananaland is packed with killer punk rock jams, emotive musical ballads, catchy kids songs, witty commentary, and hilarious Australianisms. However, Miller-Heidke and Nuttall’s writing struggles to get off the ground in the first act, with a fair amount of throat-clearing and somewhat unnecessary songs that develop each of the band members independently of each other, without linking them back to the central narrative. Much time is spent establishing the failing band and their dismal pub surroundings – and while the jokes are very funny, they sometimes happen at the expense of a well-paced scene. It warms up a little more by interval, and then by the second act, Bananaland brings the heat with heart-wrenching songs, brightly choreographed kiddie entertainment, and a clearer vision of what it’s trying to be and say.
Production and costume designer Simone Romaniuk builds the world of Bananaland with an excellent eye, using strips of what look like fluorescent bar lights that transform the space from a dark red pub gig to a rainbow-kiddie-extravanganza without much more than a change in colour. Her costumes are also fantastic, with Kitty Litter dressed in vaguely Victorian punk clothing complete with fishnets, ruffles, chains and spikes; and the Wikki Wikki Wah Wahs (their kiddie counterpart) in delightfully matching brightly coloured overalls. In rehearsal scenes, the band is backed by a string of fairy lights and punk posters including their heroes like Yoko Ono and the Sex Pistols, as well as a hand-written “Destroy the Patriarchy, not the Planet” sign.
Simon Phillips directs Keir Nuttall’s witty book with a great sense of humour, and the entire cast rises to the challenge of the equally hilarious and earnest moments that make up Bananaland. Amber McMahon and Chris Ryan are both show-stealers, playing a rotating cast of increasingly ridiculous characters with a joy that practically radiates from them every moment they grace the stage. Max McKenna is predictably fabulous, alongside the amazing range of Hopson’s voice, and their duet ‘Grow Up and Be Kids’ would make even the most hardened of eldest daughters misty-eyed. Maxwell Simon inherits the spirit Dangles the dog (a well-worn furry character costume) in all aspects of his life, singing a yearning number in only “woofs” to hilarious effect. Stephen King/Darren’s shining moment, a song about what it’s like to be an audience member, soars into the heart of what this musical is about: loving, being and experiencing, despite everything.
While Bananaland is a bit of a bumpy ride in the first act, it’s worth it for the glaring talent that Miller-Heidke and Nuttall have for writing emotive and impactful musical theatre. Distinctly Australian, deeply funny, and wonderfully earnest, Bananaland is for the Wiggles-loving kid inside all of us – even the art snobs.
Bananaland is playing at Riverside Theatres in Parramatta until January 14, 2024, as part of Sydney Festival. Tickets start at $69 and you can snap them up over here.
