It's no surprise that Dicks: The Musical got its start at sketch-comedy institution the Upright Citizens Brigade, since the movie written by and starring Aaron Jackson and Josh Sharp often feels like an overgrown comedy sketch. Jackson and Sharp are relative newcomers with only a handful of minor screen credits each, but Dicks: The Musical could pass for the film debut of a long-running comedy troupe, complete with the awkward transition to long-form narrative.
Groups like The Kids in the Hall and The State are clear influences on Jackson and Sharp, who also draw from transgressive queer filmmakers like John Waters for their deliberately button-pushing film. Dicks: The Musical was first produced as the even more inappropriately titled two-man stage show Fucking Identical Twins, and Jackson and Sharp reprise their roles as those title characters. Craig (Sharp) and Trevor (Jackson) are introduced as absurdly exaggerated alpha males, their performative heterosexuality obviously masking some deeply repressed desires. An opening title card facetiously lauds the "bravery" of the gay stars for playing straight characters.
Craig and Trevor are both inconsiderate jerks who take what they want, brag about all the women they have sex with, and excel at their meaningless industrial sales jobs. When their company's two offices merge, they're pitted against each other for the top sales position, but that competition takes a turn when they realize that they're actually identical twins, separated at birth and each raised by one of their parents.
Jackson and Sharp look nothing alike, but as the movie's narrator, God Himself (Bowen Yang), insists, you just have to go with it. That applies to pretty much everything in Dicks: The Musical, which undercuts any potential criticisms of its sloppy production values or lack of credibility by pre-emptively criticizing itself. The ironic self-deprecation wears thin, as does the strained edginess of the vulgar dialogue and outlandish scenarios.
The movie clocks in at only 86 minutes — including end-credit bloopers — so it only slightly overstays its welcome, and there are enough hilariously bizarre bits to sustain most of that slim running time. As performers, Jackson and Sharp can be overly showy and histrionic, and they're easily outshined by the famous co-stars they recruit, including Yang, rapper Megan Thee Stallion as Craig and Trevor's boss, and Nathan Lane and Megan Mullally as the duo's estranged parents.
Lane and Mullally practically take over the movie once they show up, as Craig and Trevor hatch a Parent Trap-style scheme to get their parents back together. Both parents are deeply disturbed, and the veteran performers fully embrace that weirdness, committing to even the nastiest, most inexplicable scenarios that Jackson and Sharp put them through (look out for the horrific puppet creatures known as Sewer Boys). They also bring full commitment to the Broadway-style musical numbers, which makes the foul-mouthed songs even funnier. Like the 1999 South Park movie Bigger, Longer & Uncut, Dicks: The Musical mocks musical theater so effectively because its creators have such clear affection for the form.
Director Larry Charles is best known for his collaborations with Sacha Baron Cohen, most notably on Borat, and his staging is functional but lacks the level of spectacle that would make Dicks: The Musical a more immersive parody. The deliberately ramshackle sets and the establishing shots lifted from vintage stock footage have a certain kitsch value, but they also keep Dicks: The Musical from transcending its sketch-comedy origins.
After all its outrageousness, the movie turns earnest in a final plea for love and acceptance, which deflates a bit of the intended taboo-breaking. Jackson and Sharp try hard to shock, but like their characters, they're ultimately just desperate for approval. ♦
DICKS: THE MUSICAL
