When I was about seven or eight years old, I did something strange during a school exam. My mother prepared me for the essay section by having me practice the topics that, with almost total certainty, would appear on the test. And so it happened: of the four topics to choose from, three were the usual ones—the very ones I had practiced over a million times. But then, I decided to write about the unusual topic instead.
After the exam, my mother was truly furious when I told her what I had done. My father, on the other hand, asked me why I had done such a thing. My answer was: "I simply felt like doing it." My father then said that was fine. He added, moreover, that no matter what I chose to do in life, he would support me unconditionally. And if things went wrong, he promised he would take care of fixing them. About two years later, my father passed away due to kidney failure. Sadly, he was unable to keep his promise. My life would have been infinitely easier had he still been alive.
Directors: Seth Barrish, Stephen Kessler
Writer: Jeffrey Ross
Stars: Jeffrey Ross
By the way, this is a review of *Jeff Ross: Take a Banana for the Ride*, which just premiered on Netflix. With this show, the popular American comedian has made his Broadway debut. The reason I mentioned all of the above in the first paragraph is that, after watching Ross’s ninety-minute stand-up special, I felt the need to take a trip down memory lane. The comedian lost his mother to leukemia when he was fourteen years old. Five years later, his father passed away as well. Four decades later, Ross—now 60 years old—dedicates half of the show to talking about his parents: who they were, how they related to one another, and, most importantly, how they influenced him during the brief time he had the opportunity to have them by his side. There is something he says that strikes a particularly deep chord with me. His father—a man who always overflowed with humor—once remarked that most parents in the world love their children exactly as they are supposed to, but very few ever truly come to love them as a friend. I make no claim to be a parenting expert, but I do believe this makes a great deal of sense. I would probably have forgotten my father by now had he not been my friend. I certainly wouldn't be mentioning him in a professional piece of writing after all this time! Speaking of forgetting, one of the central themes of Ross’s show is how the deceased fade from memory as time goes by. Ross admits that he barely remembers his mother anymore, beyond the stories she shared with us. According to the comedian, this is exactly how the world is supposed to work; for, as human beings, we are designed to move forward after a period of significant mourning. Viewed from that perspective, the entire show constitutes Ross’s attempt to preserve the memory of his parents. And what better way to do so than by sharing their stories with millions of people around the world? Ross not only speaks candidly about his late parents, but he even goes so far as to read letters written by his mother to his father, and subsequently, those written by his father to him. He admits that he felt skeptical about the idea at first, but eventually felt that his parents would have approved!
Both these letters and the stories themselves prove to be deeply moving, yet simultaneously hilarious. Take, for instance, the story in which Ross’s mother confesses to her husband that they had drifted apart due to their hectic schedules, but that her illness has brought them back together—so, deep down, she doesn't mind it all that much. This simply demonstrates that Ross is more interested in portraying his parents as "real people," rather than placing them on a pedestal. There is also a story about his father, who caused quite a commotion at the hospital because the doctor had written the abbreviation "SOB" on his mother’s prescription. It is an abbreviation for *shortness of breath* (difficulty breathing), but, obviously, the man interpreted it as "Son of..." (you know what I mean). The moment that leaves the deepest impression in this entire extensive segment is the one in which Ross’s father breaks the news of his wife’s passing to his two children: Jeff and his sister, Robyn. One day, after returning from the hospital, the man called the kids together and simply told them what had happened. Then he told them they could either stay with him or retreat to their rooms. He ensured that the kids had the freedom to choose how to process their grief. Although Jeff and his father never spoke much about his mother again after that, they always remained close.
All that said, Ross’s Broadway debut does not revolve exclusively around his parents—my apologies if that was the impression I gave you—though, without a doubt, they constitute the show’s absolute highlight.
Ross makes sure to explain this detail as well. Bananas grow in bunches; they remain sweet and tender beneath their semi-hard exterior, and often, the ones that look the worst on the outside turn out to be the best. Ross has titled his show in honor of this fruit because that is, precisely, his philosophy of life: to remain good, no matter what life throws his way. The final segment—in which he interacts with the audience, listening to what they have to share (mostly tragic stories) and managing to extract a joke from each one—is a clear testament to this. Finally, needless to say, I highly recommend that you watch this special. You might feel disappointed if you are expecting a hilarious, side-splitting show in which Ross showcases his scatological humor. But if what you are looking for is a rather sweet and heartwarming experience—one in which you will laugh, shed a tear or two, and find plenty of inspiration—then this is, without a doubt, the ideal content for you.
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