‘Urinetown’ is Flush With Fun at the Palace Theatre
- Izzy Siebert
- 17 hours ago
- 4 min read
Without a doubt, Urinetown is the weirdest dystopia I’ve encountered. A decimated water supply. Public toilets owned by private companies. Entry fees charged for the “privilege to pee.” It’s weird, but it works. Directed and choreographed by Sydney Brockway, Urinetown is a gleefully satiric and highly entertaining musical at the Palace Theatre.
Urinetown’s dystopian future is incredibly bleak. Threats of exile and police brutality keep the city’s poor coughing up cash to use the toilet, no matter how many fee hikes they face. After his old man (Matt deKort) is exiled, janitor Bobby Strong (Henry Truong) leads an uprising in the community that relies on Public Amenity #9, the only toilet in this part of town. They find themselves up against the corporate giant Urine Good Company, backed by the tyrannical Caldwell B. Cladwell (Sean Brennan).
I was waiting for the moment when the toilet humour would feel overdone but, for all its outlandishness, Urinetown doesn’t get obnoxious. Yes, characters wriggle in line for the washroom and wield plungers like weapons, but there are fewer toilet jokes than you might expect. This comes as a relief since it would be hard to sustain a show on that brand of humour alone.
Instead, many of the show’s funniest moments come from poking fun at the conventions of musical theatre. Officer Lockstock (Kate Sepi) serves as both beat cop and narrator, orienting the audience with a self-aware opening number in which she complains about exposition even as she overloads the audience with it. Sepi is a standout performer, constantly playing to the crowd with a magnetic physicality that’s impossible to look away from.
The skewering of musical theatre continues with Little Sally (Rae Ryder), the quick-witted young co-narrator, who questions the logic of Urinetown’s world and even critiques the show’s off-putting title. Several musical numbers lean fully into parody and relish in their own excess, like the saccharine love duet between Bobby and Cladwell’s daughter Hope (Jesslyn Hodgson) or Cladwell’s evil anthems.
Brennan brings exactly the right amount of sleaze to corporate tyrant Cladwell. His fluttering fingers, vocal inflections, and greasy personality add infectious hilarity to the villain numbers. In stark contrast, Hodgson is the embodiment of bubblegum pink in all her sugary sweetness.
Truong as Bobby anchors the uprising as an unlikely leader. I found it incredibly fun and oddly empathy-inducing to watch a revolutionary with a streak of cowardice. “Run, Freedom, Run” is a highlight of the second act, packed with high-energy choreography and the audience clapping along as Bobby encourages his fellow rebels to run away.
Urinetown is backed by an eclectic and energetic ensemble who appear as poor residents, Urine Good Company employees, and cops throughout the show. Distinct personalities shine through, like the feral Peeping Tanya (Charlie Camrass) or the gleefully bloodthirsty Hot Blades Harry (Nicholas McConnell). With the full cast numbering over 20, the stage feels impressively full during large conflicts and dance numbers.
The set, designed by Ceris Thomas (who doubles as producer), drips with unidentified brown substances, and the big Urinetown sign looming above is reminiscent of a sewer grate. Staggered levels of stairs and doors offer dynamic staging opportunities, and the patched together look feels right for a town assembled from junk and teetering on collapse.
Although Urinetown premiered 25 years ago at the New York International Fringe Festival, the toilet-driven dystopia feels eerily topical. Corporate greed, climate change, and people’s inability to afford even basic necessities have only gotten more relevant. It’s impossible to ignore how strongly these themes resonate onstage especially at the Palace Theatre in London’s Old East Village.
Director Sydney Brockway’s production is certainly aware of its current moment. A mopey horn blow after mentions of tariffs or the bright red caps worn by Cladwell’s lackeys are small but instantly recognizable signals to a 2026 audience. Pennywise (played with admirable grit by Brockway when I attended on opening night) also emerges as a complicated figure. She rules Public Amenity #9 with an iron fist, but little separates her from the people she punishes, revealing the flimsy protection that comes from aligning oneself with power.
Despite its timely themes, don’t worry that the night will be a downer. Urinetown doesn’t get didactic. In a world this messed up, the show finds humour everywhere it can and thrives on darkly comedic moments. Watching the cast joyously commit to every bit makes for a production that is truly flush with fun. Get your tickets and catch Urinetown before it closes on March 1.
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