
Summary:
We clear up the noise around Pauline’s identity across two fan-favorite adventures by sticking to what’s on the record and what that realistically implies. Famitsu asked producer Kenta Motokura whether the Pauline we meet in Donkey Kong Bananza is the same person as the mayor of New Donk City in Super Mario Odyssey. Motokura wouldn’t confirm it either way, suggesting we use our imagination, yet he did add that the team “has a plan.” That one line sparked a fresh wave of theories—especially because Bananza’s 13-year-old Pauline talks about a grandmother and plays a hands-on role in DK’s journey. We walk through the confirmed facts, how Pauline functions in Bananza’s design, and the practical reasons Nintendo might keep the mystery alive. We then look at the strongest interpretations that fit the text without twisting it, how a future reveal could work, and who benefits most from each scenario—the developers, the players, and the broader Mario/Donkey Kong timeline. By the end, we’re grounded in evidence, honest about the gaps, and ready for whatever Nintendo decides to pull back the curtain on next.
What’s officially on the record about Pauline in Bananza and Odyssey
Nintendo keeps certain mysteries alive for a reason, and Pauline’s identity is absolutely one of them. The recent exchange with Famitsu put the question directly to producer Kenta Motokura—are the Paulines in Super Mario Odyssey and Donkey Kong Bananza the same person? He declined to confirm or deny, nudging fans to “use [their] imagination,” while also saying the developers “have a plan.” That pairing matters. It signals there’s internal logic behind the scenes, but that the team prefers players to interpret the breadcrumbs for now. Elsewhere, Nintendo’s own developer Q&A explains why Pauline was added to Bananza in the first place: she activates Donkey Kong’s transformation mechanics with her singing, guides the player, and provides a human viewpoint to empathize with alongside DK’s chaos. We also know Bananza’s Pauline is explicitly a young teenager, which frames her arc as growth from shy to confident. Taken together, the verified details tell us two things: Nintendo deliberately positioned Pauline as a core design pillar in Bananza, and the studio is consciously keeping the identity connection ambiguous until it serves a creative goal to reveal more.
Why Nintendo keeps the answer vague (and why that’s smart)
If a single sentence can deflate a thousand theories, Nintendo would rather keep that sentence tucked away until it lands at the perfect moment. Ambiguity lets the team ship a story that works whether you read Pauline as a younger version of the mayor or as a different family member entirely. It also gives space for future projects to wield that reveal as an emotional beat—imagine returning to New Donk City with new context that reframes a song lyric or an NPC line. From a craft perspective, leaving room to breathe prevents the timeline from boxing designers in. The Mario and Donkey Kong worlds bend toward fun first; hard canon only calcifies when it amplifies that fun. Motokura’s “we have a plan” tells us the team is tracking continuity carefully; the “use your imagination” tells us the door stays ajar until it’s dramatically useful to shut it. In short, vagueness isn’t dodging—it’s staging.
What we learn about Pauline from Bananza’s mechanics and story beats
Bananza isn’t coy about Pauline’s role as the heart that keeps DK’s journey human. Her singing literally powers transformations, and her dialogue lightens the mood while clarifying goals. That’s not a cameo; it’s structural. She’s also characterized as 13—old enough to challenge her fears, young enough to be overwhelmed by a subterranean world that looks nothing like New Donk’s skyline. The arc is classic: reluctant helper grows into a capable partner. Even small quirks become memorable anchors for character—like her fruit mix-ups that fans joke about—because they show personality under pressure. What matters here is narrative function: Pauline bridges player and primate. Whether she’s the same Pauline we see running a city later, or a related figure who looks up to a superstar grandma, Bananza builds her as someone whose voice—literally and figuratively—changes the course of an adventure.
The grandmother clue and what it realistically implies
The in-game mentions of a grandmother are tantalizing because they give fans a legitimate thread to pull without confirming anything. Referencing a singer grandmother hints at lineage, legacy, and echoes of the original arcade era, but it stops short of naming names. That’s likely intentional. It lets players map their preferred timeline—grandmother as the classic arcade “Lady,” teenage Pauline as the bridge, mayor Pauline as the fully realized performer—without the script closing doors. Importantly, the developers refused to elaborate on the grandmother question as well, which keeps the theory space symmetrical: identity and ancestry are both “not yet.” That suggests the grandmother isn’t just a throwaway line—it’s a narrative tool Nintendo can activate later if the team chooses to tie eras together with a single reveal. Until then, the cleanest takeaway is simple: the game wants you thinking about history, but it won’t fossilize it for you.
Reading the tea leaves without overreaching
There’s a difference between connecting dots and inventing them. The safe, text-first reading is that the team designed Pauline to be emotionally resonant and mechanically essential in Bananza, and they want fans to debate the identity question because debate is fun. Everything else is optional add-on: does Bananza feel like an origin story for the New Donk City mayor? Sure, if you want it to. Does the grandmother line leave room for a different timeline where the adult mayor is a distinct person? Also yes. What we shouldn’t do is pretend either is stated outright. The quotes and developer Q&A place guardrails around speculation: identity undetermined, plan exists, please enjoy guessing. That’s the sweet spot of Mario-universe lore—firm enough to reward pattern hunters, loose enough to stay playful.
Two clean, supportable scenarios that fit the facts
Scenario A: Same person, earlier chapter. Bananza’s Pauline grows from shy kid to confident singer, learns to perform under stress, and literally uses music to move the world. Years later, that momentum carries her into public life as New Donk City’s mayor. Pros: elegant character throughline, satisfying origin for her musical chops and leadership. Cons: raises questions about exact chronology with legacy arcade events; Nintendo would need to thread those needles carefully if it ever pins dates down.
Scenario B: Same family, different generation. Bananza’s Pauline idolizes a singer grandmother and inherits that talent. The mayor in Odyssey could be the older figure (or another generation), keeping Bananza’s teen distinct while honoring the legacy. Pros: respects nods to the past and explains the “grandmother” hook, while letting designs and ages stay flexible. Cons: less of a neat origin payoff; some players prefer a single continuous arc.
How Bananza’s design choices support either outcome
Bananza wears neon-tinged heritage on its sleeve—industrial palettes, New York inspiration, and spiritual callbacks to steel beams and ladders from the earliest Donkey Kong imagery. In Nintendo’s own words, this world sits between jungle wildness and urban grit, and Pauline’s presence bridges those vibes by adding voice, explanation, and feeling. Because levels lean into free-form destruction and playful sequence breaks, the story avoids rigid rails, too. That’s a clue about identity: the game is structured to be read multiple ways without breaking. If the mayor and the teenager are one and the same, the motifs line up as a formative tale that seeds her musical leadership. If they’re relatives, the same motifs become family heirlooms—songs, symbols, and city lights passed down. In both cases, the design holds because it’s about mood and function more than dates on a wall.
Why “we have a plan” matters more than a yes/no
Planning changes how we interpret silence. A shrug would say, “we didn’t think about it.” A plan says, “we did—and we’re choosing not to tell you yet.” That’s the difference between ambiguity as an oversight and ambiguity as a deliberate craft choice. It also implies internal consistency. If a future project revisits Pauline, the reveal is less likely to contradict Bananza and more likely to make existing scenes feel richer in retrospect. That’s how good mysteries age: they make replays taste better because earlier lines suddenly carry more weight. Even if Nintendo never flips the card, the knowledge that a plan exists keeps theories from veering into headcanon that fundamentally clashes with the games.
What a satisfying future reveal could look like
Think small, elegant, musical. A reprise of a Bananza melody in a new setting. A framed photo of a grandmother on a mayoral desk. A throwaway NPC line that lands like a drumroll if you’ve played both adventures. Nintendo’s reveals rarely arrive as lore dumps; they come as winks. The best resolution would do what Bananza already does—let players feel clever without punishing those who missed a beat. If the team ever answers the question explicitly, expect it to be wrapped in a moment that’s emotionally warm, not a chart with arrows.
Fan theories that respect the text (and how to keep them honest)
The most durable theories anchor in exact quotes and on-screen events: Motokura’s non-answer plus “we have a plan,” Pauline’s age and arc, her role in transformations, and the grandmother references. Anything beyond that should be framed as preference, not proof. Want the clean origin story? You can cite her confidence bloom and musical agency. Prefer the lineage angle? You can cite the grandmother and the franchise’s playful treatment of time. The moment a theory requires inventing an event or misquoting a line, it’s time to dial it back. This approach keeps the community’s speculation creative, not combative—and it makes future reveals more fun because the puzzle pieces were handled with care.
Who benefits from the ambiguity right now
Everybody, honestly. Players get a richer conversation space, press can report on confirmed remarks without overpromising, and developers retain future flexibility. Bananza stays approachable if you’ve never touched Odyssey, and Odyssey still sings whether or not you’ve spelunked through Bananza’s layers. The identity question becomes a shared pastime rather than homework. And if Nintendo decides to pay it off, the payoff hits harder because we’ve been listening, guessing, and noticing the right things all along.
What to watch next without getting lost in the hype
Keep an eye on official interviews and developer diaries first—they’re where precise language lives. When you see a quote like “we have a plan,” that’s a breadcrumb worth bookmarking. Also watch for music crossovers, visual callbacks in future trailers, and small prop details around Pauline in any future appearances. Those subtle signals often say more than a headline. Finally, remember the ground rules: if the answer isn’t stated, it’s not confirmed. Enjoy the chase, but put the flag on what’s verified so we all play the same game.
Ground-truth recap: what’s confirmed, what’s implied, and what’s off-limits
Confirmed: Bananza’s Pauline is 13, her singing powers key mechanics, and the developers won’t confirm her relationship to Odyssey’s mayor but do say they have a plan. Implied: The grandmother line is there for a reason, likely to evoke heritage without naming it. Off-limits: Treating either identity conclusion as fact. That’s the spine of a sane conversation—no overreach, no spoilers, just careful reading and patient curiosity. It keeps the fun where it belongs: in the games and in the joyful debate they inspire.
How we keep our take grounded and useful for players
We stick to quotes, official write-ups, and clearly labeled observations. We avoid turning speculation into statements. We explain why Nintendo might hold back, how Bananza’s design supports multiple readings, and what clues to watch for that don’t require mental gymnastics. It’s a light, player-first way to enjoy a studio that loves to surprise us—and it sets us up to appreciate the reveal, if and when it arrives, without having to retcon our expectations.
Why this mystery works
Some questions feel like locked doors; this one feels like a window. You can see just enough to imagine the room, and the view’s better for the guessing. Whether Pauline turns out to be the same woman we cheer for on New Donk’s stage or a granddaughter carrying the torch, the story Nintendo’s telling is about voice—finding it, using it, and letting it change the world. That’s a throughline worth celebrating, answer or not.
Conclusion
Pauline’s identity sits at the intersection of craft and community. Nintendo confirmed the character’s crucial role in Bananza and deliberately left the mayor connection unresolved, promising only that a plan exists. That’s healthy mystery, not evasiveness. It keeps players speculating responsibly, gives future projects narrative runway, and preserves the wonder that makes these worlds sing. Read the text, enjoy the hints, and let the music build—because when the curtain finally lifts, it’ll feel earned.
FAQs
- Did Nintendo confirm whether Bananza’s Pauline and Odyssey’s Pauline are the same?
- No. Producer Kenta Motokura declined to confirm and encouraged players to use their imagination, while adding the team has a plan.
- How old is Pauline in Donkey Kong Bananza?
- She’s 13 years old, positioned as a relatable co-lead whose singing powers DK’s transformation mechanics and guides progression.
- What’s the deal with the grandmother Pauline mentions?
- It’s an intentional hint toward heritage without a definitive identity. Developers also declined to elaborate, keeping the theory space open.
- Why include Pauline so prominently in Bananza?
- She provides human perspective, emotional warmth, and a functional anchor for gameplay—her songs unlock routes, break seals, and pace the adventure alongside DK.
- Will Nintendo ever clarify the connection?
- Possibly. The “we have a plan” line suggests internal lore exists, and a future project could reveal it through subtle narrative or musical callbacks rather than a blunt info dump.
Sources
- Do Bananza And Odyssey Share The Same Pauline? Donkey Kong Dev Won’t Confirm Anything, Nintendo Life, September 22, 2025
- 3D Mario producer won’t confirm if Pauline in Mario Odyssey and Pauline in Donkey Kong Bananza are the same, My Nintendo News, September 21, 2025
- Donkey Kong Bananza devs play coy about Pauline’s identity, GoNintendo, September 20, 2025
- Nintendo devs won’t elaborate on whether adult Pauline and kid Pauline are the same person, Automaton West, September 23, 2025
- Ask the Developer Vol. 19: Donkey Kong Bananza — Part 3, Nintendo, July 15, 2025