The Room of Piss – The Hen & Chickens Theatre, London

Lucia Martinez’s The Room of Piss returns in an expanded version that builds on its inventive physical theatre and quirky energy to explore themes of chronic illness.

The Room of Piss

I recently returned to The Room of Piss, having first seen its shorter iteration at the Barons Court Theatre during the Voila! Theatre Festival last year (see earlier post). This new version has grown in length (now running close to 40 minutes) and in complexity. The design has become somewhat more restrained. The original profusion of imperative words plastered around the space has been reduced, allowing them to emerge more deliberately within the narrative. This small shift subtly changes the atmosphere to be more focused on gradual revelation.

One of the most significant developments is the addition of a third performer. Where once we had one actor in the role of a patient and another as inner monologue/health coach/narrator, this latter function – something between sentient piss and health advisor – is now the domain of two actors. This structural change spreads the physical and comic energy more evenly, letting the story unfold with less frenzy and more nuance.

A newly introduced scene (I believe) tracing a small, delicate point of light stood out as a moment of stillness amid the busy physical theatre. Its meaning felt somewhat elusive, but possibly related to autonomy, control, or the discomfort of observation without consent. An interesting thematic layer, if not yet fully integrated.

As in the original production, clowning and physical comedy remain central to the piece’s charm, supporting its indirect but resonant exploration of polycystic kidney disease (PKD). The latter is never explicitly named but woven into every beat. The audience responded warmly to this evolution, with laughter in the right places and strong applause at the close, suggesting this longer version holds their attention as well as the brisker original.

Letting Go of Control and Anxiety

This expanded version of The Room of Piss is a fascinating work-in-progress that builds meaningfully on the strengths of its earlier form. The decision to introduce a third performer, shifting from a two-hander to a trio, pays off. It reduces the strain on the original “coach/narrator” figure and creates space for more varied interactions. The “patient” role continues to give the audience someone to identify with more directly, grounding the surreal physicality in human experience.

The show’s approach to tackling chronic illness remains refreshingly unique. PKD is still unnamed, and the metaphorical world of the “room of piss” invites personal interpretation. Yet for some reason the piece’s emotional arc (letting go of anxiety, rejecting endless self-surveillance, embracing joyful abandon through dance) felt a little less resonant in this version. The sense of the burden of unwanted (if well-meaning) advice, so effective last time, seemed a little diluted by the newly inserted scenes. The moment of final release, when the patient finds freedom in movement, nonetheless retains some power and significance.

Overall, this remains a distinctive and original piece on chronic illness: one that sidesteps sentimentality for wit and weirdness. It’s a privilege to witness its development.

Salterton Arts Review’s rating: 3/5

The Room of Piss was on at the Hen & Chickens Theatre on 22 June only.