Melbourne Reviews

This performance by Kara Stacey Merrin is very short and very weird, deserving of a very short and very weird review. Bear with me as I share my scribbles in the dark with you....

Main character is Dot Little or Doc Bidell or something.

Former QLD detective who has retired to the quiet life.

There's an outbreak of bananas. WTF???

There is a banana with eyes.

This is a very fucking weird show.

Shit. I owe The Dreaded One an apology for this. This is so weird.

She is doing a finger dance with the banana with eyes. Remember to mention that this is a very weird show. Like, WEIRD.

Time has slowed. I think she is proving Einstein's Theory Of Relative Weirdness to be an actual thing.

I feel confused and kind of frustrated. What the hell is going on?

EXPLOSION OF BANANAS!

What is she doing now?

I think maybe someone spiked my drink. Only explanation because nothing is really making very much sense.

She has made me start writing on another page when really there is no need because I don't get any of this. Waste of another page really.

Oh... oh a kind of a twist ending. Oh. Oh man this is so different to how I thought it was going to be. This is actually quite (weirdly) clever. Oh wow.

The performance clocked in at about 30 minutes. It could have been funnier, it could have been more intriguing, given the noire feel it had to it, but overall there was something... startling about it. It was weird, but with a beautiful heart. It's an interesting concept that should appeal to those who believe that theatre should be challenging. I don't doubt some audience members left feeling frustrated and confused (and possibly a little ripped off at the ticket price for such a diminutive production), but for me, in the end, kudos; definitely one of the more unique and braver theatre productions I've seen for a while.


The Butterfly Club presents
The Banana & Piano Story

Venue: Carson Place | off Little Collins St, Melbourne VIC
Dates: 10 – 14 August 2016
Tickets: $32 – $28
Bookings: thebutterflyclub.com