by Barry Willis *

San Francisco’s Ray of Light Theatre is giving Urinetown, the Musical a lot of love. Both a spoof of its own musical genre and an exploration of persistent social and environmental problems, the Tony winner by Mark Holmann and Greg Kotis is a tremendously engaging sharp-edged but blunt-force production running through August 29 at the Barbary Stage at 215 Jackson Street in San Francisco.

The show’s been a staple of adventurous theater companies since its Broadway run years ago. It addresses persistent problems—homelessness, oppression, exploitation, political corruption—while commenting on and adding to an already rich theatrical repertoire. But it doesn’t take its themes too seriously. Quite the opposite: the show pokes plenty of fun at itself and the tropes of socially-conscious musical comedies throughout its frenetic two hours.

In their blighted community, the ragged poor spend all day scrounging for money to gain admission to pay-to-pee public toilets, “amenities” administered by the domineering Penelope Pennywise (Anne Warren) and her young assistant Bobby Strong (Sadat Hossain). The fee-operated facilities are owned by a corporation called UGC (Urine Good Company), helmed by overbearing CEO Caldwell B. Cladwell (William Giammona). Echoing the classic dark comedy Born Yesterday, the corrupt politician in Cladwell’s pocket is Senator Fipp (Jay Thulien), who pushes through legislation for ever-rising toilet fees, justified as a way of conserving water.

Two patrolmen keep order in Urinetown—officer Barrel (Milo Mee) and officer Lockstock (portrayed with brilliantly smug officiousness by Sidney Matthew Roman). Lockstock is also narrator, frequently stepping out of the play’s inner reality to address the audience. He’s friendly with Little Sally (Angela Busgano, in an amazingly brash and dynamic performance), one of the poor district’s more inquisitive and outspoken denizens.

One morning the officers haul away Bobby Strong’s father, Old Man Strong (Joseph Alvarado) for the unthinkable crime of public urination. It’s the young man’s first revelation about his employer’s true nature. Soon he’s leading a rebellion that spreads from amenity to amenity, threatening the prevailing social order and of course, the revenue stream—pardon the pun—that supports UGC’s empire.

Bobby Strong has a love interest, of course—the bright-eyed aptly-named Hope Cladwell (Gabrielle Goodman), daughter of the evil empire’s CEO and recent graduate of “the most expensive university in the world.” She’s just taken a position as the corporation’s new fax/copy girl, and knows nothing about its business. Her fate at the hands of the rebels  mirrors the case of Patty Hearst, the ‘70s-era heiress who was kidnapped then joined her abductors. Unlike Hearst’s kidnappers, Urinetown’s rebels succeed while losing only their leader.

It’s a bittersweet victory, told in ironic contemporary style. The good and the bad alike go to their doom, while free public toilets lead eventually to an ecological crisis. Little Sally turns to the audience and says it’s a sad story but can’t be all bad “because the music’s so happy.”

Indeed it is. Urinetown, the Musical is an upbeat inside joke, borrowing unabashedly from everything from Annie to Les Miserables to West Side Story, quoting schtick after predictable schtick with glee. Brilliantly directed and choreographed by Isaiah Tyrelle Boyd, with powerful tunes from music director Ben Prince, the show riffs on every familiar Broadway blockbuster.

The show’s nearly two-dozen cast mates are incredibly cohesive in this tightly-performed dazzler. Standouts include Amie Shapiro as Little Becky Two Shoes. Set design by Matt Owens, lighting design by John Bernard, and costumes by Ashley Renee are all exemplary.

Ray of Light delivers nonstop hilarity with an uncomfortable reality at its core. Some viewers may depart with a lingering desire for the sort of rebellion it depicts. The problem with all such revolutions is that they are only temporary cures. Each gives rise to yet another generation of exploiters and sufferers. That regrettable fact of human nature gets plenty of emphasis in this wonderful production.

Playing through August 29, 2026 at The Barbary Stage, 215 Jackson Street, San Francisco.

Click HERE for more information and tickets.

Photos by Tiffany Davis

Barry Willis is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association and past president of the San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle. Contact:barry.m.willis@gmail.com