Koalas Are Dicks

By Andrew Andrews

Patrick T. Horn, Tiffany May McRae, Larry Phillips and Phoebe Leonard hover over the supine Griffin Hennelly, as Peter Buck Dettmann (wearing a furry hat) plays with a gas can on the bed behind them, in Randomly Specific Theatre’s presentation of Koalas Are Dicks, through February 24th at Theatre 80 St. Marks. Original photo by Zoë Lintzeris.

If you owned a koala, what would its name be? Kenny? Kobe? How about... Brody? But what if the koala was America’s hottest television star, and it owned you instead? If you were its handler (Tiffany May McRae), your name would be Hannah. If you were its agent (Patrick T. Horn), your name would be Ross. The “entourage” (Larry Phillips), Davey. Co-star (Phoebe Leonard), Allison. And if you happened to be the prostitute (Griffin Hennelly) ordered to a cheap L.A. hotel room based solely on the ambiguity of your name, then that name, my friends, would be Shea.

Put them all together and you have Phillips’ new play Koalas Are Dicks, running through February 24th at Theatre 80 St. Marks in the heart of the East Village. And with a title and premise fully fitting the derelict history of its neighborhood (although perhaps less-so the gentrified strip of the present day), Koalas delivers a story so farcical, you’ll crack up at the absurdity of it all. Brody is raking in the millions but blowing it all on alcohol, prostitutes and, well, blow. He understands English perfectly, and even thinks in English—well, Australian, more accurately—but lacking vocal cords, is unable to express his demands to Ross, who can’t coax Brody to leave his seedy motel room (which reeks of “some combination of urine and hot pockets”) to return to his Hollywood set and crank out just enough episodes to get the show into syndication.

If you were a star koala, what would your demands be? More eucalyptus, maybe, or perhaps of a better quality? How about more time away from the set to catch up on some much-needed R&R? Not Brody! Brody wants nothing less than full artistic control of the show, and he’s willing to stay a recluse until he gets it!

With a cheesy theme song, wordplay galore, a sexy dance and even characters chasing each other in circles as in the Saturday-morning cartoons of yesteryear, Koalas Are Dicks blends elements of Family Guy, Pulp Fiction and Weekend at Bernie’s into a tale so ludicrous, you won’t imagine what will possibly happen next. So check it out, then come back here and tell us what you thought. Whether it leaves you shouting for more or screaming “enough is enough,” your reviews help others decide whether they should attend, and your ratings help us help you find future performances you’re sure to love!


Andrew Andrews attended Koalas Are Dicks at Theatre 80 St Marks in Manhattan on Saturday, February 3, 2018 @ 6:00pm to write this review.