B'way Review: Jeff Ross: Take a Banana for the Ride

Jeff Ross in his one-man show
Take a Banana for the Ride.
Credit: Emilio Madrid

You might expect a lot more snark from comedian Jeff Ross in his one-man show Take a Banana for the Ride at the Nederlander. After all, he is nicknamed the Roastmaster General due to his frequent inflammatory appearances on TV celebrity roasts where profanity and irreverence are the order of the day. In fact, the show starts out with video clips of his sharpest gags, the first being his most famous in which he references the genitalia of Beatrice Arthur, along with the beloved Golden Girl herself wagging a finger at him. There follows snippets of Ross being unmerciful to Alec Baldwin and Tom Brady. Stefania Bulbarella created the expansive video design which employs clips and photos from Ross’s personal and professional life, displayed across a gallery of homey picture frames, provided by set designer Beowulf Boritt. The effect, aided by Adam Honore’s warm lighting and Stephen Kessler’s smooth direction, is like being treated to a series of home movies by a funny and welcoming friend.

What we get after those clips is not the second coming of Don Rickles, but a bittersweet memoir of Ross’ history on and offstage, laced with his trademark barbs and the occasional specialty material, such as a song devoted to his cultural heritage with the blunt title, “Don’t F**k with the Jews.” (His real name is Lifschultz, “which means ‘You’d better change that.’”) Music director-pianist Asher Denburg and violinist Felix Herbst provide the expert music accompaniment. Ross even hauls out his dog to tug—successfully—at our collective heartstrings. The evening is, as expected, riotously funny, but also moving and uplifting.

Jeff Ross with his dog Nipsey in
Jeff Ross: Take a Banana for the Ride.
Credit: Emilio Madrid

After the clips, Ross enters through the audience, clad by costume designer Toni-Leslie James in an appropriate banana-yellow suit. (The title comes from the parting gesture his beloved grandfather would give him every time he took the bus trip from their New Jersey home into the big city to pursue his dreams of performing.) Ross gently lobs some introductory insults at the audience (at the performance attended, he advised the gentleman wearing shorts in the front row to close his legs since too much of him was showing), the comedian relates his family history and unlikely path to becoming a stand-up. 

After both his parents died relatively young—his mother had leukemia and his dad passed away from a brain aneurysm brought on by drug use—Ross roomed with his grandpa and auditioned for comedy clubs until an appearance on the Dave Letterman Show put him on the map. 

Ross doesn’t spare himself in his acidic commentary. His loss of hair due to alopecia comes in for a ribbing as skewers his appearance (“I look like Bruce Willis’ trainer if he also had dementia.”) His bout with colon cancer is also fair game. There’s also a tender tribute to his three favorite comic friends—Bob Saget, Norm MacDonald, and Gilbert Gottfried—all unconventional funnymen, like Ross.

The most effective extended bit is his tribute to his two dogs—a pair of German shepherds named Nana and Nipsey. Using a Teutonic accent to imitate his two rescue canines, he creates a hilarious image—“Jew, vhere are ze treats! Ve know you are hiding zem!”—goose-stepping and barking around the stage.

The evening concludes with Ross roasting select members of the audience, reeling off ad-libs as he roams the aisles followed by a video cameraperson, but leaving them with an uplifting message after the insults. It’s a perfect capper to an unexpectedly moving show.

Aug. 18—Sept. 28. Nederlander Theater, 208 W. 41st St., NYC. Running time: 90 mins. with no intermission. broadwaydirect.com.