Jeff Ross (Photo: Emilio Madrid)

Jeff Ross: Take a Banana for the Ride

By Deirdre Donovan

The king of the roast has traded his podium for the Broadway stage. In Jeff Ross: Take a Banana for the Ride, directed by Stephen Kessler, the Emmy-nominated comedian known for skewering Hollywood royalty serves up his most daring material yet - himself.

Directed with an eye for intimacy and energy, the one-man show feels less like a traditional stand-up set and more like a personal evening with an old friend who happens to be wickedly funny. Ross seamlessly weaves blistering one-liners with deeply human stories, offering glimpses into the private moments that shaped his sharp-edged persona on stage.

Rather than clutter the stage, scenic designer Beowulf Boritt embraces simplicity, letting Ross - and his stories - command the spotlight. The lone blue bench becomes a touchstone throughout the evening, a place where punchlines give way to pauses and heartfelt memories, often shared with Nipsey, his ever-patient dog. Surrounding Ross, Adam Honoré's evocative lighting and large projection screens layer in texture and emotion, juxtaposing family snapshots and roast-night images to frame the personal against the public persona.

 

Jeff Ross (Photo: Emilio Madrid)

The first anecdote Ross shares comes laced with gallows humor and unexpected warmth. He recalls visiting his 85-year-old friend Donald, who was in hospice with kidney failure, after Donald's daughter, Champ, begged Ross to cheer him up. Ross spent a couple of hours by his bedside, talking about life, when he gently took Donald's arm and deadpanned: "Donald, I'm no longer comfortable with you as my emergency contact."

From there, Ross pivots seamlessly into a deeply personal, self-deprecating riff about his experience with alopecia, which caused his hair to fall out in clumps. "I went from having a big Jew afro," he quips, "to looking like Lord Voldemort's attorney." It's a sharp, absurd image that perfectly captures Ross's knack for defusing vulnerability with humor. He explains that he's survived this-and many other challenges-by developing a thick skin and learning to laugh at himself.

That resilience, he says, comes straight from his Newark roots and a family of relentless "ball busters" who ran a catering business. Here he lets the audience in on his real last name-Lifschultz-before cracking, "That's an old Hebrew word that means, 'Hey, you ought to change that.'" By this point, only fifteen minutes into the show, Ross has the room doubled over, fully surrendered to his rhythm. And then he grounds the laughter with something more comforting: a promise that whatever struggles you're facing, however impossible they feel, "you'll get over it."

It's impossible to capture all of Ross's stories - and their rib-tickling punchlines - without diminishing their impact, since much of their power lies in the way they sneak up on you with funny yet penetrating truths. Still, it's worth sharing one early moment that hints at how Ross earned his title of "Roastmaster General." Growing up in Newark, he faced a school bully who heckled him with antisemitic slurs, calling him a "Dirty Jew!" Realizing his sharpest weapon was his wit, Ross fired back with the following:

"Hey jerk, you'll never be a scholar/Because your uncle is also your father."

It was a life-defining moment. The bully's face flushed crimson - and though the kid survived just fine, as Ross jokes, "the bully inside him was dead." From that day forward, Ross recalls, "like a miracle, the jokes just started flowing out of me, faster and faster."

Jeff Ross (Photo: Emilio Madrid)

That quick-witted comeback became the seed of Ross's comedic identity. Over the years, he sharpened that instinctive ability to turn pain into punchlines, a skill that eventually propelled him onto the celebrity roast stage - establishing him as a master of the roast. It's a theme that runs through the show: finding catharsis in laughter, no matter how heavy the subject matter.

Ross calls his gift for jokes and storytelling his "superpower," and it's one that's kept him alive - literally. During his first-ever colonoscopy last year, doctors discovered a stage 3 tumor. After surgery to remove seven inches of his colon, Ross now sums up his recovery with trademark wit: "Now I have a semicolon."

For anyone craving sharp, heartfelt comedy on Broadway, Jeff Ross's solo turn at the Nederlander delivers in spades - plenty of laughs, a few touching truths, and yes, a banana for the ride home.

Jeff Ross: Take a Banana for the Ride

At the Nederlander Theatre, 208 W. 41^st. St.

For more information, visit www.jeffrossbroadway.com

Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission

Through September 28