When “Make Banana Cry” Leaves You Waiting, Watching, and Wondering – front mezz junkies, Theater News

The Toronto Theatre Review: Toronto Dance Theatre’s Make Banana Cry

By Ross

The sound of helicopters in the darkness draws the audience into Toronto Dance Theatre‘s Make Banana Cry, as pin lights reveal what look like abstract displays of mixed ideas around consumption. Six performers emerge onto a runway, one by one, moving like fashion models drained of anything human, wrapped in expensive-looking winter coats and scarves. Underneath, there is a clear intention at work, one that asks us to submit to the slow accumulation of meaning, playing with our senses, so we hold ourselves together and wait for something to reveal itself. The images are striking at first, and the physical commitment is undeniable. Choreographers Andrew Tay and Stephen Thompson clearly understand how to construct a visual environment, one that borrows heavily from the aesthetics of fashion, spectacle, and repetition. For a time, the piece holds the room in a shared state of alert observation.

As the hour progresses, however, that alertness begins to fracture. Some audience members lean forward, tracking each subtle shift in costume, gesture, or object carried. Others visibly drift off into the void, gazing at the floor or into the middle distance, listening to choppily edited pop music while adjusting the plastic shoe covers required to protect the stage. I found myself among the latter group. When one performer finally breaks the silence, and the group’s posturing begins to change, the shift is intriguing but fleeting. The work begins to casually establish its central ideas around consumption, performance, and stereotype, then circles them again and again with minimal thematic escalation. Although visually there is some sort of rise in consciousness, the repetition continues, and what initially felt meditative slowly becomes inert.

The press material frames Make Banana Cry as a critique and parody of “Asian-ness,” Western xenophobia, and fetishization. Those intentions are present, but for me they remain frustratingly vague and singular. Plastics, illuminated shoes, and increasingly elaborate adornments suggest commentary on consumption and spectacle, yet the satire never sharpens enough to fully land. There is a moment that resembles a parade float, briefly rich with possibility, before dissolving into slow contortions that feel more exhausting than revelatory. While the performers remain fully committed throughout, I left feeling less challenged than stranded, forever trapped in a space that wasn’t delivering, aware of the ideas being gestured toward but unconvinced that the piece deepened or transformed them. Make Banana Cry may resonate powerfully for viewers attuned to its codes, but for this audience member, its endurance test outweighed its insight.

Toronto Dance Theatre‘s Make Bananas Cry, in partnership with Buddies in Bad Times Theatre.
January 14–17, 2026

Andrew Tay + Stephen Thompson // choreographers + co-creators

Cynthia Koppe, Francesca Chudnoff, Hanako Hoshimi-Caines, Sehyoung Lee, Winnie Ho, Stephen Thompson // performers

Dominique Pétrin // visual installation

Romane de Montgrand // production

Emerson Kafarowski // technical director

Öykü Önder // lighting design + tour technician