The Banana Monologues: The World Through a Penis’ Perspective
After being fly-ered by a boisterous man in a banana suit the other day that was pitching his show The Banana Monologues, I wasn’t sure what to expect going into it. Usually I try to go in with an open mind and no expectations.
But I must admit, I went in slightly skeptical and came out…. with a banana, oddly enough (the fruit was handed to me mid-performance). And an ear-to-ear grin, the goofy kind you find gets glued to your face after a really good laugh. It took some getting over myself; I had to suppress my sanctimonious instinct to object to terms like “poontang dollars” – a foreign currency to me – and “pity pussy,” among others. While I gritted my teeth a little through tampon jabs and a verbal oath that included consent to oral sex, which all women in the audience were commanded to speak by none other than Sergeant Johnson, it was all done in good fun. And done very well. Once I realized the show cleverly capitalized on the absolute shock value of the outrageous and unexpected, I was able to really enjoy it. And while I wouldn’t attend with my mom, I have to tell you in all seriousness – you really must see this show.
Self described as a “poor man’s Patrick Swayze” (the resemblance is startling), it’s simple to see why performer John Brennan as the central character Gus Weiderman has earned awards for best actor and comic in his hometown Charleston, SC (a place where, he jokes, drinking and driving is not only legal – it’s encouraged). Powerfully polished and executed with extraordinary ease, arrogance and grace, Brennan’s potty-mouthed comedy is a testosterone-soaked verbal ballet. Weaving tight, technically complex transitions between multiple scenes while carefully careening between four characters (including the infamous Sergeant Johnson “whom you may recognize from Gus Weiderman’s pants”), Brannan’s performance explodes with energy. And that’s not the only thing in the show that explodes. Although it admits overtly and unapologetically that it is all about sex, the content of the show is conceived and performed with intriguing intellect.
The title does aptly parody Eve Ensler’s piece The Vagina Monologues. Ensler’s notorious question of what vaginas would say if they could speak is thoroughly answered in the The Banana Monologues, but from the penis’ perspective. Personified as a character, the Sergeant is not the lead role but the one making decisions. These phallic-fueled choices inform the plot: Weiderman stays in an unsatisfying relationship for five years even though he knows that the differences between “super-hottie” Alexis and himself cannot be reconciled. The plot is chronologically concise in this regard, following the couple from their first date to their last rendezvous. Things do get a little dry at moments with the solely sex-driven story (especially while, during a long distance spell apart, Weiderman must become a “sex-camel”, keeping a libido reserve while they are apart). But it is an ever-entertaining show with an endearing running theme of references to the film Dirty Dancing.
Banana in tow, I left the theatre feeling great. I’d seen the world through the perspective of a penis and I’m glad I did. Really, I had the time of my life.
The Banana Monologues; Written by: John Brennan and Jason Cooper; Directed by: Mary Cimino; Performed by: John Brennan; From Charleston, South Carolina
For more information and to debate the show slip over here.