Review: URINETOWN at Mary Moody Northen Theatre

  There is nothing subtle about a musical called Urinetown. It began as a fringe experiment in 1999, transferred Off Broadway, then landed on Broadway in 2001 with ten Tony nominations and three wins. What sounded like a joke turned out to be a razor-sharp satire about corporate greed, environmental collapse, and the illusion that revolution alone can repair a broken system.

The story is famously absurd. A twenty-year drought has made private toilets illegal. Citizens must pay to use public amenities owned by the Urine Good Company. Those who cannot pay are sent to Urinetown. Bobby Strong (Kameron Callahan), sparks a rebellion after his father Old Man Strong (Liam Moorhead)  is denied relief and eventually sent to the mysterious Urinetown. What follows is a series of over-the-top musical numbers where the poor rise, the corporation falls, and the water runs out anyway. Like the narrator tells us, this isn’t a happy musical. The warning is clear: victory may be hollow and not even an American musical can turn disaster into a happy ending.

Watching this piece now feels less like comedy and more like commentary. Scarcity becomes profit. Control is packaged as order. The working class absorbs the cost while the elite polish their green-tinted offices. Replace drought with any current American crisis and the parallels tighten. The musical asks a blunt question: what happens after the system collapses if no one has built a better one? That it’s the young and idealistic who rise up isn’t just plot, it’s a reminder of what we celebrate in Black History Month: the courage of those who, like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., refused to accept injustice, dared to dream of a fairer world, and inspired others to believe that change is possible. 

There is something to learn from this piece of theatre. Even the most outrageously funny musicals reflect reality in one way or another. All we have to do is listen.

Director Kasey RT Graham keeps the tone disciplined, letting the humor land without softening the bite. Music Director Lynn Koenning delivers a tight, energetic sound, and Kimberly Schaefer’s choreography gives the production its driving pulse. The large ensemble numbers are crisp and muscular, moving with intention rather than chaos.

The ensemble is particularly impressive given its makeup. This is a combination of college students, professional actors, and professors, and yet the production feels fully polished. The company moves as one organism. Vocals are unified, transitions are smooth, and the storytelling is clear. In a show that depends on collective energy, that cohesion makes all the difference.

Theada Haining’s set design makes smart use of the four-sided venue, carving the space into distinct territories. The rebels’ hideout and Amenity Number 9 live in browns and dry textures, echoed in Susan Branch Towne’s earth toned costumes. Across the stage, UCG exists in cool greens, from floor tiles to furniture to wardrobe. Even the aptly named UCG Band sits on that side, visually reinforcing who owns the machinery of this world. The design is cohesive and pointed without being heavy handed.

While the production thrives on ensemble strength, a few performances stand out. Gabrielle North’s Hope Cladwell is bright and grounded, with clean vocals and sharp comedic timing, especially in “Follow Your Heart.” She captures Hope’s gradual awakening without losing the character’s optimism. Jordan Barron’s Officer Lockstock anchors the evening as narrator, guiding the audience with confident physicality and precision. His work in “Cop Song” is tightly executed and genuinely funny.

Callahan plays Bobby with sincerity rather than swagger, and Anna Skidis Vargas brings grit and vocal authority to Pennywise, grounding the working-class scenes in something tangible and human.

Underneath the humor sits a pointed critique. Cladwell (played by Quincy Kuykendall) monetizes necessity and calls it responsibility. The poor are told it is for their own good. The language feels familiar. When Bobby’s revolution succeeds, the show refuses to celebrate blindly. The system falls. The water runs out. Victory without foresight becomes ruin.

Urinetown does not mock revolution. It questions what comes next. It asks who controls the essentials and who ultimately pays when resources disappear.

You leave laughing. You also leave thinking about infrastructure, power, and water. That is the quiet sting of it.