Another bandmate, Ruby’s sister Karen (Georgina Thompson), is mother to a young son, and torn. Thompson, who has sung Christine in Phantom of the Opera, has operatic chops worthy of Miller-Heidke herself, and delivers a wrenchingly perceptive solo, Toby Use Your Inside Voice, that articulates the sorrow of separation from your kid while on tour, tempered with the exasperations of actually being there with the little monster. Parents in the audience nod along forcefully.

Kitty Litter’s inevitable metamorphosis into the Wikki-Wikki Wah-Wahs is facilitated by an elegantly wasted former children’s star, Mimsi Borrogroves, played by a scene-stealing Amber McMahon, while Chris Ryan as Kitty Litter’s lonely fan Darren has an unexpectedly moving song late in the piece. This is a show where the multitasking supporting players are having, if anything, more fun than the leads.

While some songs pastiche kids’ staples of “food, animals, sleep and fairytales”, the ones revealing the characters’ interior states, like signature tune True North, stir the soul like the best of Miller-Heidke’s hit singles.

Remember her Eurovision entry, which she sang while attached to a rotating pole? The show performs a similar balancing act by being broadly comedic while also deadly serious – articulating the pressures on the young to challenge power structures and save the world from very real threats. How can we sing about big red cars, Ruby despairs, while Rome burns?

The answer, of course, is that audiences matter – no matter how small.

Any professional knows that getting on stage takes the same kind of commitment and guts whether you’re up there slaughtering a capitalist pig or playing one of the Three Little Pigs. It’s all about the connection.

Bananaland is an absurd, colourful, mickey-taking musical, but it never loses sight of its emotional true north.