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Based on the text that won the XV Literary Award of the University of Seville, “237” by José Luis Ordóñez.

Stanley Kubrick converted room 237 into the most disturbing in the cinema world, just as Stephen King had done in the world of literature (although the room in that case is number 217), and if this room creates uncertainty and uneasiness, it is due to the presence of the beautiful and the repulsive, both on film and on paper.

And now, in the theatre.

In here, women and men are discussed, and the disturbing relationships that can take place between them, the conflicts, the truths and the lies, and, why not say it, the pleasure that stems from being what we are not, live what we have not lived, do what we have not done; basically, the pleasure of entering the wonderful world of fiction.

However, Perversidad en la 237 is a lot more. It’s drama, it’s comedy, it’s mystery, it’s love and pain, it’s joy and sadness, it’s desiring the impossible, or the impossible imploring for desire.

They say that when one finishes writing a work of fiction, it ceases to belong to the author, and that from that moment on it belongs to the reader/ audience. And for that reason, I now address you.

You must come in and occupy your seat. Wait for the lights to dim. For the curtains to be drawn.

Are you ready?

Because the moment has come for you to enter, at your own risk, room 237.

J.L. Ordóñez


Jaime moves uneasily in his hotel room. He is waiting for Abigail, a prostitute he has called for and to whom he will pay a substantial amount of money. However, when Abigail arrives, Jaime proposes something that she did not expect. A game. A disturbing game that will change their lives radically. A game that unravels in room 237.


We require mirrors in which we can look at ourselves and discover ourselves. In this play the audience will find itself immersed in the complicated relations between couples: unfaithfulness, tedium…

The actors dare to play a confusing game, where reality and fiction mix, always creating a doubt.

We play and we pretend, so that we don’t get bored, so that we don’t get frustrated. Reality doesn’t exist, or if it does, it’s only there to distort, to distort fiction.

Once again, the eternal question: Who are we? Everything will keep echoing in a confined space, where the cinema of the 1950s and its unmistakable melodies will make us enter a spiral of smoke, coming from a forgotten cigarette…

A cinematographic world within the theatre, where irony will give reality a twist and make us conscious of our existence.- Reality can be devastating…


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