Peaches Goes Bananas

Bluesky

Less a portrait of a musician/creative artist/feminist icon and more a portrait of a friendship, Marie Losier’s Peaches Goes Bananas, which has been a hit across the festival circuit from Venice to Glasgow to Flare, is an extraordinary piece of filmmaking. Shot over 17 years, it mingles intimate personal moments with visceral concert footage, its musical sequences knitted together with some of the best editing you’re likely to see this year.

For all the delight she takes in costume, Peaches (her given name is Merrill Nisker but she uses her stage name just as readily with friends) is not somebody who feels a need for glamour, and her willingness to be seen just as is adds an extra layer to the film. It’s rare for us to see bodies – especially female ones – in this very direct way as they change over time, and rare too to see a female body whose owner is just as comfortable and confident in it throughout that process, giving a real power to Losier’s 16mm footage. Much of Peaches’ story is presented in the same unvarnished way. There is a bit of selectivity by omission – a camera-shy boyfriend is kept on the margins – but the rest comes through clearly. This includes Peaches’ interactions with her sister Suri, whose multiple sclerosis has led to a different experience of bodily change and who, like many seriously disabled people, is clearly long past wasting time and energy on vanity.

The relationship between the sisters, as Suri’s health declines, is a powerful emotional motor within the story as it unfolds. We also meet their parents, getting insights into Peaches’ childhood, but the focus is less on listing incidents or facts – fans can find plenty of that elsewhere – and more on exploring interpersonal dynamics. Similarly, much of the concert footage is focused on Peaches’ relationship with her audience, and we also see her behind the scenes planning out new elements of her shows. We watch her getting hands-on with the design of costumes and props, and see the effects of touring, which only grows more physically demanding with time. Candid footage captured in dressing rooms and tour buses explores the physical and emotional impact of spending, in total, years on the road. There’s a whole extra kind of toughness here, beyond what comes across in the music.

Throughout the film, Peaches’ stark visibility contrasts with Losier’s attempts to keep herself out of sight, which inevitably fail, her voice and personality taking up space even though her body is hidden. The finished work is stronger for it, as she provides a sounding board for the musician and a reference point for viewers. The dynamic between the two creates its own sense of intimacy. Whilst there are to-camera monologues, most of the time one gets the impression that the camera has become so ubiquitous that it’s forgotten altogether, perhaps even by Losier herself. The result is an immersive work which, for all the time it covers, feels very immediate, as if presenting the condensed truths of 17 years all at once, all here and now, with Peaches’ own characteristic combination of artistry and bluntness.

Needless to say, this is far from the average music documentary, and its appeal will extend far beyond Peaches’ fans. It’s a truly remarkable creative effort which you should catch on a big screen if you can.