We chat with writer-director Christopher Greenslate about his new film Bananahead…
Could you introduce yourself to our readers and tell us a little about the journey you have been on leading to Bananahead?
My name’s Christopher Greenslate and I’m the writer/director of Bananahead, a project that I absolutely adore. Before moving into film and television, I cut my creative teeth in the punk and hardcore music scene. Which basically means I’ve spent a lot of time in dark, noisy rooms, covered in the sweat of other people. I was always a fan first, but eventually I started to play in bands and tour and put out records. Primarily small and intimate venues and releases, but this has been critically important to my development as a creative person. I spent some overlapping time working in advocacy and education, but then I finally accepted the reality that I’m at my best when I’m doing creative work. So, I attended the American Film Institute and now I’m singularly focused writing and directing which is the most challenging and rewarding thing I’ve ever attempted. All of which lead in bits and pieces to Bananahead, which among other things is about seeing oneself as you’re trying to do something you love.
From penning the script to bringing to life on set, what was some of the biggest challenges you faced bringing this big idea to life?
That’s an interesting question because in many ways Bananahead seems to be asking for a feature film treatment. The ideas and the pacing and opportunity for extensions of Sally’s performances in each of her roles absolutely suggest there’s more to the story, and in some ways that’s absolutely true. One of the challenges for a short film is that typically people want a short to deliver quick thrill, or be a great extended joke, or bit of delicious irony, but from the earliest conversations with my collaborator and lead actor, Sally Maersk, it was clear that neither of us were particularly concerned with those satisfying those expectations. For better or worse. On the one hand that means the film is far longer than most festivals have the space or appetite for, but on the other hand it absolutely rewards multiple viewings and gives cinephiles more to process. I think it’s really easy to watch the film and just have a thrilling time, but if someone has a really robust filmography riding with them when they sit down in a theater then they’ll see things that casual viewers will miss entirely. I love that about Bananahead.
Bananahead draws you in with its intense character-driven story. Especially when it comes to returning home and unlocking memories. Was this something personal to you?
That’s great to hear! Well, to be clear, while our lead character finds an old box with things passed down from her family, that’s really about legacy. For Andi those artifacts done hold much meaning, they’re more like curios. However, that is where she finds the key to the room upstairs known as The Golden Hollow, and that room is about appetite and desire. It’s about the future. The room shows you what your life could be, and in doing so casts this sort of spell over you. The Golden Hollow itself is a reference to this feeling I had as a kid. I remember my first proper Easter really well and my parents had put one of those large, gold-foil wrapped chocolate bunnies in my basket, and I just remember being so excited. You think, here it is! I’ve got this huge chocolate bunny! Each mouthful is going to be pure ecstasy, except it’s actually pure imagination. When you open one of those up, typically they’re… hollow. That disappointment I felt wasn’t there because I didn’t get a big piece of chocolate, it was there because I anticipated and expected more. I think we’ve all been victims of our expectations in one way or another. So, here we have a character in Andi who desperately wants to achieve something profound, and the room shows her how close she is to having it, but the fact is the more time you spend focusing on the illusion of expectation, the more likely it is to make you sick. So, yeah, for us it felt incredibly personal. In fact, the intensity of that feeling, the pressures of dreams and being obliterated by disappointment is what Sally and I dug deep on for this film. It’s what connected to one another and to the material.
You had such a wild narrative arc here; can you tell me what it was like keeping it all balanced within the tone and style?
If it’s wild it’s because that’s how it feels to be drunk on one’s own delusion. I wanted you to be in the pit of Andi’s stomach as she’s being torn apart. That for me was the center of gravity in the film. If she’s feeling it, we should feel it. The film tries to give the audience just enough narrative signposts to understand why she feels the way she does, but ultimately the film doesn’t care if you get it. What the film clearly does care about is putting you in her shoes, and I think that’s what informed the tone and the choices that suggest my overall approach, or style. I love movies that have a formal quality to them, where you can tell that the filmmaker is properly invested in the visual nature of the experience, so I just tried to represent that through choices that were as close as possible to my original imaginings. I’m also keenly interested in the mania that we often suppress as people in order to present as civilized. In some ways we’re always working as individuals to stay palatable or deliver the best versions of ourselves, and I think the film is also attempting that in its own way. Which for some people will be annoying, but that’s okay. Emotional resonance is my compass, and I think that’s where the tone and style come from. I have no idea if that makes any sense. I’m sorry.
Sally Maersk delivers one hell of a performance here. What was it like building the character of Andi with her?
Good god does she ever! Sally is an incredible actor. I can’t imagine having anyone else playing all four roles the way she does. She’s so new and fresh. She takes the work very seriously as a performer, but she isn’t pretentious about it. I love that about her. And she has this openness about her that is contagious. I think we’re built similarly in that we feel things deeply before we actually understand them, which for me is probably the most important quality to have in a collaborator. She’s also super inquisitive. She wants to know things about the characters she’s playing that might be implied in the script but aren’t spelled out. It’s funny, because sometimes actors ask questions because they already have an answer or something that they’re trying to fit into the equation of the film, but Sally’s not like that. Her questions are typically two levels beyond what you’re seeing on screen. That was definitely the case with Bananahead. She did a tremendous amount of work shaping each of her performances. There were a few times she’d ask me about Andi’s mother or grandmother, really doing the work to suss out the legacy aspect of her character, and I just did the best I could to keep up with her.
With such a bold visual style, can you speak to working with your cinematographer Rasa Partin on crafting its look?
Rasa is a genius. He and I met during our time together at the AFI, and connected because we don’t eat animals, and he had done some work with Equal Vision Records, so we had some real personal overlap. Then working on different sets together I could tell we had similar tastes in terms of light and composition, so naturally we gravitated toward one another. He also shot my first feature, Saviors, a film shot in one continuous take and his experience in capturing illegal street racing in D.C. made him a super responsive operator. He knows what’s important and how to make it beautiful. But his story chops are real. He cares about the story and whether or not it adds up or at least feels compelling. There are times when I find that frustrating, but it also makes me a better storyteller. I’m super grateful for his commitment to being rigorous about story. In terms of process, I storyboard everything in advance. I make super specific choices, often intentionally referencing other films… and then Rasa makes it all real. He puts his stamp on things in a way that makes his artistry clear, but always does so in service to the story. Working with him is a dream come true.
Have you any other projects that you are working on, or particular targets/ambitions to work towards over the coming years?
Of course! The team behind this project mostly returned this year for another project we just wrapped up called Drainomania. Sally stars again, but this time alongside the tremendous Gabrielle Maiden, in what I hope is a super fun, genre hopping, explosive little film that asks questions about the multiple roles we take on in our romantic relationships. That one should be done soon. Sally and I are also working on a feature film, inspired by a very famous Ibsen play. This one plumbs the depths of how someone becomes a villain. It’s a thriller that should feel sexy and emotionally dangerous. Unfortunately, good people will die. Sally and I might also shoot another short in before then to keep ourselves sharp and to keep having fun! Outside of those, I have a couple of comic books that haven’t been announced yet coming out in 2025, and a few other film and TV projects that are in various stages of development. None of which I’m allowed to discuss publicly. That said, I’m trying to house some of it under this umbrella I call Weird Kid Workshop. Hopefully that will eventually become a beacon for other weirdo talented people to find me. Which is my way of saying that I’m always looking for the right collaborative relationships; smart, talented people who want to do weird, cool stuff that no one else would do, and thankfully I’ve been very lucky so far.
Thank you to Christopher Greenslate for taking the time for this interview.
