Telluride Theatre’s “Urinetown”: Go While You Can!

11 Mar Telluride Theatre’s “Urinetown”: Go While You Can!

Telluride Theatre‘s winter blockbuster is “Urinetown,” one terrific satire, with one lousy title. But if you are looking for an evening of spectacularly funny, uniquely smart, albeit dark, entertainment, look no further than director Sasha Sullivan’s latest triumph.

Lockstock & Barrel find Hope, image by Clint Viebrock

Don’t think you want to see a musical about peeing?

Think again, because once again Sasha has managed to put together a charming, abundantly talented ensemble cast and, with a little help from her friends – choreographer Lyndia Peralta; musical directors Ethan Hale and Bobbie Shaffer (who is also band conductor); vocal musical director Anna Robinson; set designer Scott Harris; costumer designer Melissa Harris; lighting designer,Tree Priest; sound designer Dean Rolley; make-up designer Coleen Thompson; and crew, Scott Upshur – gentled everyone into droll, precisely articulated, wildly energetic performances that smirk and wink as sacred cows get mashed into hamburger with chillingly eloquent efficiency. The overall production, enhanced particularly by Lyndia’s inventive, demanding dance numbers packed with witty details, has a bursting-at-its-creative-seams (and bladder) quality that is both nuanced and completely engaging.

Go to find welcomed, umm, relief from the headlines and quotidian to-dos. Go while you can. (Palm Theater, Tuesday-Saturday, March 11-15 at 8 p.m. and on Sunday, March 16, at 4 p.m.)

“Urinetown” was the first show to open on Broadway just nine days after 9/11, when the world as we knew it appeared to have gone into the toilet. But as it turns out, America’s loss of innocence did not chime with the death of irony as the success of Greg Kotis’ (the biting book) and Mark Hollmann’s (winning music) black comedy so handily proves.

“Urinetown” tells the sad tale of a Gotham-like metropolis in a dystopian future, a place where hope (or Hope) goes to die. Water is so scarce private toilets have been outlawed and people have to pay to pee in urinals run by an evil monopoly. While the wealthy get fat off the tolls of the poor, the less fortunate clutch their groins and beg for coins to gain entry into piss-poor public amenities. But when Hope – a running joke throughout the production – daughter of the dastardly dandy who runs the Urine Good Company (puns abound throughout) falls in love with a would-be revolutionary named Bobby Strong, the stage is set for a showdown between the oppressed poor and the corporate badasses.

The Poor, Ready to “Snuff That Girl,” image by Clint Viebrock

Thomas Robert Malthus is the eminence grise of “Urinetown.” The 18th-century philosopher believed the power of population is infinitely greater than the power in the earth to produce subsistence for all mankind. (And you will need this fact for Officer Lockstock’s ending words to make sense.) Filled as it is with Malthusian malaise, “Urinetown” also manages to wink at the greed of too-big-to-fail corporations, while shooting spitballs at over-the-top spectacles like “Les Mis” and “Chicago” and elaborate video productions such as Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.”

How can a Brechtian allegory (read a plot with serious political overtones) about class warfare, over-consumption, climate change, and entertainment industry excesses be so much fun? The answer comes down to the strength and power of every single character in the show, particularly the leads, who deliver, thanks to Sasha’s patient, persistent guidance, crisp, comic, compelling characterizations.

The story is narrated by Officer Lockstock, Mitchell Key (aka Mishky), and Little Sally, Cat Lee Covert. “Urinetown” works best when played straight, not just for laughs and deadpan is Mishky’ s specialty. As the show’s smart-alecky patriarch, he delivers his comedic lines with spot-on timing and casual intensity that mesh seamlessly with the skepticism of his streetwise urchin sidekick. In fact, Cat’s sassy, brassy Little Sally, the show’s one-woman Greek chorus, is a scene stealer, even in the choral dance numbers, where she is always doing something interesting and riveting. Ethan Hale’s Bobby, an assistant custodian at the worst urinal in town, brings an open-faced guilelessness to the role of romantic anti-hero and plucky iconoclast. His clear, confident tenor stops traffic when he leads the cast in the production’s rousing gospel number, a parody of show tunes classics like “Guys & Dolls’s” “Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat.” Caroline Grace Moore beguiles as the beautiful, but naive offspring of  Caldwell B. Cladwell, played by Bob Saunders, who delivers just the right doses of smarm and sliminess to be a satirical send-up of a big-time corporate nasty. Caroline has the voice of an angel and megawatt smile to match, both of which fill up the house. As the crusty matron and vivacious enforcer of urine laws who experiences a change of heart, Anna Robinson gives what is possibly the most textured performance in the show. And that voice. It’s luminous. As the evil Officer Barrel, Colin Sullivan is chilling.

And possibly gay.

You have to listen closely to all the lines in “Urinetown” because some of the characters are not exactly as they seem. The corrupt Senator Fipp (Clint Viebrock), for example, might be transgender.

A superb supporting cast adds to the fun and games, turning the negative utopia into a bundle of laughs – while sticking a knife into the heart of purists of all stripes.

And just for the record, as strange as Urinetown’s central premise may be, the play falls in lockstep with a distinguished tradition of eccentric productions acclaimed for shooting barbs at human foibles, tongue planted firmly in cheek: think “Springtime for Hitler,” which involved frolics with the Fuehrer; “Sweeney Todd,” which celebrated a notorious Victorian serial killer; and “Little Shop of Horrors,” which featured a carnivorous plant from a galaxy far, far away.

If you have ever wished the rest stop would come sooner on a long drive, you won’t want to miss “Urinetown.” Sasha’s smart, grungy, nasty production adroitly straddles the knife edge between comedy and the dark heart.

Fun for the whole family! Rated PG.

To buy tickets – adults $20 and students $15 – visit telluridetheatre.org/tickets or call 970-708-3934.