Continuity is a rock opera composed by Adam Farouk. It is set in the fictional mental health treatment facility known as the "Hayes Institute" and involves the relationships and misadventures of the various inpatients housed there. In particular it focuses on the lives of two patients: Johan "Joe" Ghazali, an entitled trust fund man-child who believes his mania to be solvable through plush robes, Swedish massage, professionally-cooked gourmet food, and the occasional taking of his meds; and Callie Sarturo, a suicidal single mother whose young daughter has recently been taken into custody by child protective services. Forming an unlikely friendship, the two go on a journey of discovery, and find that sometimes true healing requires finding the courage to stand up to one's healers.
Characters:
INPATIENTS
Eva Calista "Callie" Sarturo, the protagonist of the story, suffers from crippling depression, and was admitted into the Institute after, having had her daughter forcibly taken from her by child protective services, she made an attempt on her own life. She arrives a mysterious figure, in a wheelchair, catatonic, and unable to communicate. Shunned by her fellow inpatients, the single mother in her mid-twenties is befriended by the equally outcast Joe, who coaxes her out of her shell by teaching her to play chopsticks on a new piano that has arrived unexpectedly at the ward. As friends, the two threaten the unit's hidden status quo; doing so, however, might be their only chance to truly heal.
Voice part: Soprano
Voice part: Soprano
Johan "Joe" Ghazali, the story's deuteragonist, is a lazy, entitled man-child in his mid-twenties, who has been transferred to the Hayes Institute after he accidentally started a toaster-oven fire at the cushy private health spa he has frequented all his life, as a form of barely-plausible effort to treat his ongoing mania. Thinking he can recreate this spoiled existence at the Institute, he quickly alienates himself from both the nursing staff and his fellow inpatients, finding himself the unit pariah before the close of his second day there. His salvation arrives in the form of the non-responsive Callie who, having not been present for Joe's first, obnoxious few days, may be his only available option for making friends.
Voice part: Baritenor
Voice part: Baritenor
Matthew Foster, also known as "Normal Matt" is the story's contagonist. He is a "man about town"-type, the kind who instantly becomes the most popular person in any social setting he is in. He often appears friendly, while actually acting selfishly and in ways that jeopardize the wellbeing of others. He has a supply of "happy pills" that he distributes to the inpatients in exchange for them "owing" him favors, often in the form of performing in some way for his entertainment. Eventually the source of his manipulative behavior, which includes diagnoses of narcissism and OCD, is discovered to have been that he was assaulted sexually at a young age by a member of the clergy.
Voice part: Tenor
Voice part: Tenor
Kyla Franks, born "Kyle Franks," is a trans-woman, and one of the unit's inpatients. Kyla has faced prejudice, physical and mental cruelty, and has endured abusive relationships, that have led her to "cutting" as a way of dealing with her grief. She shares an intimate (but ultimately chaste) relationship with Nurse Carter, one of the male nurses; the two, despite caring for one another deeply, decide not to pursue one another outside of the unit when Kyla leaves.
Voice part: Countertenor
Voice part: Countertenor
Eddie Sinclair is an inpatient who struggles with emotion regulation. With the hubbub surrounding the arrival of Callie, he decides that he has had enough, and aggressively demands to speak to one of the nurses. He is told that to be released early means to have to spend three additional days in the unit with all privileged revoked. Eddie reconsiders. The source of his rage is his alcoholic ex-military father, who would abuse him and his siblings physically, until Eddie grew big enough to pose a threat to the man's considerable strength.
Voice part: Tenor
Voice part: Tenor
Connor Everett is an inpatient whose depression manifests in making him constantly fatigued to the point of chronic sleepiness. He often remarks in group that his goal for the day is merely to avoid taking a nap. He looks like one of your sleepier koala bears, with a fixed grin upon his face, no matter what the circumstances. He is generally affable, but gullible and easily swindled.
Voice part: Baritone
Voice part: Baritone
Mike Sullivan-Smith is a former policeman who is dealing with trauma from the violence and horror he experienced while on the force.
Voice part: Baritone
Voice part: Baritone
Barbara Baxter is an aeronautical engineer whose experience of sexual harassment and abuse on the job has left her with chronic anxiety. She is also overcoming an addiction to anti-anxiety medication.
Voice part: Alto
Voice part: Alto
MENTAL HEALTH STAFF
Nurse Anne Feng Lai Lee is the head nurse at Joe and Callie's unit. Seemingly a no-nonsense ruler-follower, Joe eventually discovers that her method of keeping the peace in the unit involves turning a blind eye to the many personal indiscretions that take place there every day. Initially antagonistic towards Joe, she slowly chips past his pampered veneer and finds an earnest soul looking to change his life for the better.
Voice part: Mezzo-soprano
Voice part: Mezzo-soprano
Nurse Laura Rose no less than epitomizes the idea of the sultry nurse, with bedroom eyes, a comely smile, and good-smelling revlonesque hair. When the whirlwind that is her character transfers the the ward, chaos ensues, with most of the men hopelessly vying for her favor. Fully aware of her assets as well as how to use them, Nurse Laura thrives on the power of knowing her patients thirst for her.
Voice part: Mezzo-soprano belter
Voice part: Mezzo-soprano belter
Nurse Carter Dewitt is a junior nurse at the unit. When he inadvertently reveals that he was recently left at the altar, Kyla comforts him; the two forge a close friendship that quickly develops into something more. At first agreeing that they will continue their relationship when Kyla leaves the unit, Carter and she eventually decide against doing so.
Voice part: Tenor
Voice part: Tenor
Dr. David Wise is the head psychiatrist at the unit. Strict and cynical, at this wing of the Institute his word is law, and he decides who must remain and who is allowed to leave. Initially a force of antagonism, he quickly sees through Joe's breezy manner and plainly "recommends" that he stay at the unit until he begins to take his therapy more seriously. Eventually, the doctor proves to be compassionate and, like his name, wise, as he listens to Joe's pleas on behalf of Callie.
Voice part: Baritone
Voice part: Baritone
Billy Parker is the unit's program director. He creates the curriculum that will be covered in the unit's daily group sessions. He believes strongly in the power of behavioral activation, and teaches what has come to be known as the "Mind Move Mountain" technique. He acts as a mentor for Joe and later Callie.
Voice part: Tenor
Voice part: Tenor
THE WORLD OUTSIDE
Gloria "Glo" Mendez is an ex-girlfriend of Joe's with whom he still shares a close friendship. The two understand each other very well and are very well suited, in fact it was Glo who first suggested that Joe seek help for his psychological symptoms, Joe's initial refusal serving as a catalyst for their breakup. Her parents own a piano dealership, and send a piano to the ward so Joe can have something to do other than watch TV and color. Joe, embarrassed, first becomes angry, but the instrument eventually facilitates his making friends with Callie.
Voice part: Alto
Voice part: Alto
Zeke is Joe's rich parents neurotic personal assistant, who fields Joe's many calls to them, asking if they could pull favors and have him released from the unit quickly, early on in his stay.
Voice part: Tenor
Voice part: Tenor
Plot Summary:
Callie Sarturo (23) is a young woman with a young child, who she had out of wedlock while she was still in her teens. She is a loving mother, but has recently begun acting erratically. People around her are blaming this on her bipolar disorder, which they believe prevents her from being able to provide her daughter with sufficient material stability. A call from her neighbor after she leaves her house with the door open and her daughter still inside prompts child protective services to come and take the child away. Appearing to have been beset by the grief and guilt of having lost her daughter in this way, Callie spirals into despair, and attempts to commit suicide (I NEED TO KNOW).
The Butterworth Center is an exclusive psychological unit in the Berkshires (SPIRIT CALLING). Joe Ghazali (25) is an inpatent there, apparently dealing with his ongoing mania, but it’s more spa that mental health facility, and he spends most of his time lazing around in the rec room, trying to get the remote to work as he binges “The Office” or “Game of Thrones,” or else flirting with the nurses, or worse yet, the young female patients—the pinnacle of distate given that many of these are dealing with low self-esteem and/or attachment disorders. These frequent “therapeutic” stays are paid for by his crazy-rich-asian parents, who are part of the wealthy elite in the small southeast asian country of Malaysia.
One day, trying to prepare a burrito in the microwave, Joe pushes “hours” when he means “minutes” and starts a fire in the unit. The center’s custodial staff, despite the hefty refit now required to the repair the unit, are happy, now that the indolend, exploitative Joe has been forced to leave (THE SUN ALSO RISES). Looking to worm his way to another cushy, expensive psuedo-center, Joe’s bubble is burst when he finds out that his parents are bankrupt. His health insurance points him in the direction of the “Hayes Institute,” a center in a not-so-fancy suburb of Boston with a reputation for weirdness.
Joe arrives at Hayes. He first meets Nurse Anne (30s), the head nurse on the unit. Orderly and matter-of-fact, Nurse Anne comes from a cruel and overbearing family, who not for a moment will let her forget that she is “only a nurse” (ALL IN SILENCE). Joe, after discovering that he has to share a room, vies for a single. Believing him to be no more than a spoiled rich kid, Nurse Anne points an accusatory finger in his direction, claiming that she “knows his type” and issuing him a warning, not to try any shenanigans around her. Joe meets his roommate, a young man who calls himself “Normal Matt” (20s). He seems nice enough to Joe (JUST A GUY), who, upon hearing tortured screams coming from a room down the hall, decides to count his blessings.
On Joe’s first day, he attends various orientation gatherings and meets the crew of inpatients (or the “adorable weirdos,” as he hears Nurse Carter, Nurse Anne’s friendly second-in-command, say in private). A new patient has arrived, a trans-woman named Kyla. In a quiet corner, Joe quietly remarks to himself that he thinks Kyla is quite pretty, but Nurse Anne is right behind him, and orders him not to “so much as breathe on her.” Joe insists that the comment was innocent, but Nurse Anne believes she knows his type, selfish and self-serving. In orientation, Kyla opens up about the abusive relationships she has suffered through, and that have led to her using “cutting” as a method of dealing with pain and grief (SAY YOU LOVE). At the end of the song, she breaks down; Nurse Carter comforts her.
A new nurse is here, and she struts down the hallway, flicking her jet-black hair out of her face with revlonesque swagger. Her name is Nurse Laura, and it seems as though a sultry musical theme follows her wherever she walks. Bedroom eyes, comely smile, good-smelling hair, like it or not, the whirlwind that is her character has arrived at the ward. Nurse Anne accompanies her into the administrative office to process her paperwork. On the way in, Nurse Laura catches a glimpse of Normal Matt, likes what she sees, and gives him a wink as she disappears into the administrative office.
There’s a hubbub growing. A new patient has been admitted, and from the sound of the gossip, she’s in a very bad way. Despite instructions not to, everyone leaves their rooms; they flock to the hallway, now lined with security personnel, to catch a glimpse of who will be their newest new neighbor. To Joe, this study in schadenfreude is of no interest to him, but he doesn’t want to be left out of the loop. He stands quietly behind Normal Matt, who’s already started confidently taking the lead in the situation in the absence of Nurse Anne (who’s helping Nurse Laura acclimate).
A girl is wheeled in in a wheelchair. She looks positively frightful. Her hair is all over the place, her mascara runs down her cheeks, her head is hung to the side, she’s moaning and drooling. Her arms are restrained. Her name, it seems, is Eva Calista Sarturo, but she goes by simply: Callie. Everyone seems a little shocked. One of the patients curses, and remarks unkindly that the “last thing they needed on the wing was a goddamned freak.” Matt confronts him, telling him to check his language. As things escalate, an altercation nears, but is stopped by Nurse Anne and the security officers. Joe overheads Nurse Anne talking to her team, saying that Callie has a history of seizures. She tried to take her life, then had a seizure, which likely saved her, and now she has an acute case of Todd’s paralysis. The bluster slowly disperses. As Callie turns and heads through the doorway to her room, her eyes meet Joe’s. He’s not sure, but he could swear that her eyes registered something when she looked at him (STILL WALKING). Feeling puzzled, he returns to his room.
Joe has his first appointment with his treatment team, consisting of a psychiatrist, a man in his sixties, Dr. David Wise; a mental health worker-in-training, and a social worker. He meets first with Dr. Wise. Joe jokingly tries to explain his situation as having been a case of needing attention causing him to behave in potentially self-harmful ways. He mantains that he’s basically stable, therefore, he shouldn’t need to stay in the unit for longer than a couple of days. Dr. Wise rebukes him gently, saying that it’s not so easy as for him to simply decide how much treatment he needs, adding that, in his experience those who claim to do things for attention, are often trying to mask actual problems of a more serious nature.
Panicking in response to the fact that he won’t be breezing through this process in a matter of days, Joe takes to the phones. He first calls his parents. It’s 1am where they are and they have long gone to bed. He speaks instead with their personal assistant, Zeke, asking whether they might be able to pull in a few political favors to get him released from the psych ward as early as this evening. Zeke has only bad news, as it seems that with their fall from riches, they have also become persona non gratis among the Malaysian elite: alas, they are barely scraping by—well, by their standards, meaning they’re driving Lexuses instead of Rolls Royces—but in any case, there are no favors they can pull that will get Joe out. He broaches the idea, of petitioning to leave early, with Normal Matt, who offers him the cryptic response of saying merely: “Don’t.” Before he can inquire further, a mental health professional (or “MHP”) is summoning them for an exercise known as “group.”
Group is shorthand for “group activities” which can range anywhere from karaoke singing to deep expositional group therapy. Patients are encouraged to go to as many groups as possible, and to fill their days with as much group activity content as possible, the idea being that such content is material to the process of evolving and, ideally, healing. In group today, a man named Billy Parker is co-facilitating with Nurse Anne. Billy begins, by talking about behavioral activation (MIND MOVE MOUNTAIN).
Nurse Anne taps in. Joe enters, still flustered by the dead-ends he’s faced regarding getting out early. Normal Matt follows coolly behind him. There’s a seat next to Callie’s wheelchair, in fact, in both directions there are empty chairs next to her, but Nurse Anne, believing herself ever vigilant of Joe’s “shenanigans,” directs him to sit next to her instead. Adjacent to Callie remains empty, it seems no one wants to sit by her, until Normal Matt does so, greeting her with a smile. Walking past the room, Nurse Laura notices Normal Matt apparent kindness with a smile. Sully, a former police officer who has been experiencing grief and trauma from his experiences on the field, is in the middle of a personal story, when he is interrupted his story is the delivery of a piano. The patients grumble, because it is placed in the way of the TV. With Nurse Anne’s encouragement, Mike finishes his story (WILLOW WEEP FOR ME).
Eddie is a patient who struggles with emotion regulation. With all the hubbub surrounding the arrival of Callie and the piano, he decides that he’s had enough and aggressively demands to speak to one of the nurses. Nurse Laura is available and listens patiently as he shouts at her, demanding that he be released as soon as possible. As Joe emerges from the kitchen/rec room complex eating a jello cup, he hears her explain to Eddie the process of being released early (THREE DAYS). Basically, he’d have to spend three more days in the unit, during which he’d have any and all of his privileges revoked e.g. TV, use of his phone. Eddie, sufficiently chastised, says he’ll consider his options, why Joe now understands Normal Matt’s warning to him.
Walking back into the rec room to get another jello cup, or perhaps a juice box and a PB&J, Joe swears he sees Callie reaching for the piano’s keys. The instrument has been moved and much to the inpatients’ relief no longer blocks the TV. Curious, Joe starts towards Callie, only to be stopped by Nurse Anne, who repeats her verbal warning that he stay away from this patient. He heads to the game room instead, where he comes across two patients playing ping pong, Barbara, and Connor. Barbara (60, full name Barbara Baxter) is tall and wiry, with silver hair done up in a ponytail and the look of someone sharp of wit and mind. Connor (20s, full name Connor Everett), in contrast, looks like one of your sleepier koala bears, with a fixed grin upon his face, and an expression that seems not to mind that he is being taken to the cleaners by his opponent, and unlikely for the first time today. The game is over; Barbara has won, again. Normal Matt, who’s there and watching, cheers for Barbara’s victory, then smoothly palms a small package to each of them—Joe just barely catches this in the corner of his eye.
Joe gets a call. It’s from Gloria Mendez, or “Glo,” an ex-girlfriend with whom he still shares a close friendship. It turns out she was the one who suggested that he seek help for his psychological symptoms. When she suggests that this turn of events (him winding up at Hayes instead of Butterworth) could be a blessing in disguise, Joe becomes angry, then more so, when she reveals that the piano that arrived yesterday was donated to the unit by her parents, who own a piano dealership. Glo tries to explain that this was just her parents’ way of trying to help. Joe, embarrassed, becomes angry, and hangs up, though it is clear that he not only still misses her, but that he still cares for her and very much so.
Joe heads back to the rec room, facetiously asking permission to do so from Nurse Anne as he passes her in the hallway. Eddie’s there, sitting and reading. So is Callie, sitting in a chair and staring into the near distance. Joe asks Eddie if he would mind if Joe play something on the piano. Eddie shrugs—why not? Joe sits on the stool, and starts playing (MONDAY). When he finishes, Matt is in the doorway, applauding. He pulls Joe aside and offers him a “happy pill.” When Joe reflects that he has no money. Matt tells him not to worry, he can just “owe” him. “Owe you what?” asks Joe. “Oh, anything. Take Barb and Connor—they chose to owe me a game of ping pong. That’s forty minutes of entertainment, right there! And easy work for them.” Joe nods. “Ask me again later,” he replies.
Joe tries going to the bathroom for the first time. He can’t. He seeks help from the nurse in charge. It’s Nurse Anne. Telling her her that he’s sure she’ll find a great deal of humor in his pain, she contradicts him, offering him helpful advice, and some mild medication to help his regularity. Joe’s surprised, “Why the change of heart?” he asks. It’s then that he hears music wafting in from the rec room. “What the…” he says as he quickly rises and jogs over there. There sits Callie, playing the song, the very one that Joe was playing the day before, note for note, on the rec room piano. Nurse Anne arrives, standing behind him. “I don’t know what you did, but something about that song got her going” (MONDAY, REPRISE)
Joe goes over and sits by Callie on the piano bench. She flinches a little as he arrives, but lets him stay. They play a few simple duets together, chopsticks, heart and soul etc. Joe chuckles at their burgeoning repertoire; Callie smiles genuinely but still sits in silence. There’s a popular TV show playing on the set. Joe notices Callie’s attention has drifted and she has taken to watching it (the show). Joe starts playing some music. It’s one of the TV show’s themes. Callie smiles. She starts playing tentatively with him. As his playing gets more and more spirited, she begins to sway back and forth with the music. Eventually she starts clapping.
Then—she laughs.
Watching from the window, Nurse Anne, some patients, and a handful of staff member’s jaws drop to the floor. No one is quite sure what to make of this. It’s the first noise (vocal, and other than moaning) she’s made since she’s been here. But then, a bell rings to signify that it is approaching bedtime. Callie is wheeled back to her room humming. As Joe passes Nurse Anne, she pats him on the back, appreciatively, and says, “Joe for the win.” As Joe gives her a smile, she replies, “Doesn’t mean I like you.” (WHAT WILL I BE)
The Butterworth Center is an exclusive psychological unit in the Berkshires (SPIRIT CALLING). Joe Ghazali (25) is an inpatent there, apparently dealing with his ongoing mania, but it’s more spa that mental health facility, and he spends most of his time lazing around in the rec room, trying to get the remote to work as he binges “The Office” or “Game of Thrones,” or else flirting with the nurses, or worse yet, the young female patients—the pinnacle of distate given that many of these are dealing with low self-esteem and/or attachment disorders. These frequent “therapeutic” stays are paid for by his crazy-rich-asian parents, who are part of the wealthy elite in the small southeast asian country of Malaysia.
One day, trying to prepare a burrito in the microwave, Joe pushes “hours” when he means “minutes” and starts a fire in the unit. The center’s custodial staff, despite the hefty refit now required to the repair the unit, are happy, now that the indolend, exploitative Joe has been forced to leave (THE SUN ALSO RISES). Looking to worm his way to another cushy, expensive psuedo-center, Joe’s bubble is burst when he finds out that his parents are bankrupt. His health insurance points him in the direction of the “Hayes Institute,” a center in a not-so-fancy suburb of Boston with a reputation for weirdness.
Joe arrives at Hayes. He first meets Nurse Anne (30s), the head nurse on the unit. Orderly and matter-of-fact, Nurse Anne comes from a cruel and overbearing family, who not for a moment will let her forget that she is “only a nurse” (ALL IN SILENCE). Joe, after discovering that he has to share a room, vies for a single. Believing him to be no more than a spoiled rich kid, Nurse Anne points an accusatory finger in his direction, claiming that she “knows his type” and issuing him a warning, not to try any shenanigans around her. Joe meets his roommate, a young man who calls himself “Normal Matt” (20s). He seems nice enough to Joe (JUST A GUY), who, upon hearing tortured screams coming from a room down the hall, decides to count his blessings.
On Joe’s first day, he attends various orientation gatherings and meets the crew of inpatients (or the “adorable weirdos,” as he hears Nurse Carter, Nurse Anne’s friendly second-in-command, say in private). A new patient has arrived, a trans-woman named Kyla. In a quiet corner, Joe quietly remarks to himself that he thinks Kyla is quite pretty, but Nurse Anne is right behind him, and orders him not to “so much as breathe on her.” Joe insists that the comment was innocent, but Nurse Anne believes she knows his type, selfish and self-serving. In orientation, Kyla opens up about the abusive relationships she has suffered through, and that have led to her using “cutting” as a method of dealing with pain and grief (SAY YOU LOVE). At the end of the song, she breaks down; Nurse Carter comforts her.
A new nurse is here, and she struts down the hallway, flicking her jet-black hair out of her face with revlonesque swagger. Her name is Nurse Laura, and it seems as though a sultry musical theme follows her wherever she walks. Bedroom eyes, comely smile, good-smelling hair, like it or not, the whirlwind that is her character has arrived at the ward. Nurse Anne accompanies her into the administrative office to process her paperwork. On the way in, Nurse Laura catches a glimpse of Normal Matt, likes what she sees, and gives him a wink as she disappears into the administrative office.
There’s a hubbub growing. A new patient has been admitted, and from the sound of the gossip, she’s in a very bad way. Despite instructions not to, everyone leaves their rooms; they flock to the hallway, now lined with security personnel, to catch a glimpse of who will be their newest new neighbor. To Joe, this study in schadenfreude is of no interest to him, but he doesn’t want to be left out of the loop. He stands quietly behind Normal Matt, who’s already started confidently taking the lead in the situation in the absence of Nurse Anne (who’s helping Nurse Laura acclimate).
A girl is wheeled in in a wheelchair. She looks positively frightful. Her hair is all over the place, her mascara runs down her cheeks, her head is hung to the side, she’s moaning and drooling. Her arms are restrained. Her name, it seems, is Eva Calista Sarturo, but she goes by simply: Callie. Everyone seems a little shocked. One of the patients curses, and remarks unkindly that the “last thing they needed on the wing was a goddamned freak.” Matt confronts him, telling him to check his language. As things escalate, an altercation nears, but is stopped by Nurse Anne and the security officers. Joe overheads Nurse Anne talking to her team, saying that Callie has a history of seizures. She tried to take her life, then had a seizure, which likely saved her, and now she has an acute case of Todd’s paralysis. The bluster slowly disperses. As Callie turns and heads through the doorway to her room, her eyes meet Joe’s. He’s not sure, but he could swear that her eyes registered something when she looked at him (STILL WALKING). Feeling puzzled, he returns to his room.
Joe has his first appointment with his treatment team, consisting of a psychiatrist, a man in his sixties, Dr. David Wise; a mental health worker-in-training, and a social worker. He meets first with Dr. Wise. Joe jokingly tries to explain his situation as having been a case of needing attention causing him to behave in potentially self-harmful ways. He mantains that he’s basically stable, therefore, he shouldn’t need to stay in the unit for longer than a couple of days. Dr. Wise rebukes him gently, saying that it’s not so easy as for him to simply decide how much treatment he needs, adding that, in his experience those who claim to do things for attention, are often trying to mask actual problems of a more serious nature.
Panicking in response to the fact that he won’t be breezing through this process in a matter of days, Joe takes to the phones. He first calls his parents. It’s 1am where they are and they have long gone to bed. He speaks instead with their personal assistant, Zeke, asking whether they might be able to pull in a few political favors to get him released from the psych ward as early as this evening. Zeke has only bad news, as it seems that with their fall from riches, they have also become persona non gratis among the Malaysian elite: alas, they are barely scraping by—well, by their standards, meaning they’re driving Lexuses instead of Rolls Royces—but in any case, there are no favors they can pull that will get Joe out. He broaches the idea, of petitioning to leave early, with Normal Matt, who offers him the cryptic response of saying merely: “Don’t.” Before he can inquire further, a mental health professional (or “MHP”) is summoning them for an exercise known as “group.”
Group is shorthand for “group activities” which can range anywhere from karaoke singing to deep expositional group therapy. Patients are encouraged to go to as many groups as possible, and to fill their days with as much group activity content as possible, the idea being that such content is material to the process of evolving and, ideally, healing. In group today, a man named Billy Parker is co-facilitating with Nurse Anne. Billy begins, by talking about behavioral activation (MIND MOVE MOUNTAIN).
Nurse Anne taps in. Joe enters, still flustered by the dead-ends he’s faced regarding getting out early. Normal Matt follows coolly behind him. There’s a seat next to Callie’s wheelchair, in fact, in both directions there are empty chairs next to her, but Nurse Anne, believing herself ever vigilant of Joe’s “shenanigans,” directs him to sit next to her instead. Adjacent to Callie remains empty, it seems no one wants to sit by her, until Normal Matt does so, greeting her with a smile. Walking past the room, Nurse Laura notices Normal Matt apparent kindness with a smile. Sully, a former police officer who has been experiencing grief and trauma from his experiences on the field, is in the middle of a personal story, when he is interrupted his story is the delivery of a piano. The patients grumble, because it is placed in the way of the TV. With Nurse Anne’s encouragement, Mike finishes his story (WILLOW WEEP FOR ME).
Eddie is a patient who struggles with emotion regulation. With all the hubbub surrounding the arrival of Callie and the piano, he decides that he’s had enough and aggressively demands to speak to one of the nurses. Nurse Laura is available and listens patiently as he shouts at her, demanding that he be released as soon as possible. As Joe emerges from the kitchen/rec room complex eating a jello cup, he hears her explain to Eddie the process of being released early (THREE DAYS). Basically, he’d have to spend three more days in the unit, during which he’d have any and all of his privileges revoked e.g. TV, use of his phone. Eddie, sufficiently chastised, says he’ll consider his options, why Joe now understands Normal Matt’s warning to him.
Walking back into the rec room to get another jello cup, or perhaps a juice box and a PB&J, Joe swears he sees Callie reaching for the piano’s keys. The instrument has been moved and much to the inpatients’ relief no longer blocks the TV. Curious, Joe starts towards Callie, only to be stopped by Nurse Anne, who repeats her verbal warning that he stay away from this patient. He heads to the game room instead, where he comes across two patients playing ping pong, Barbara, and Connor. Barbara (60, full name Barbara Baxter) is tall and wiry, with silver hair done up in a ponytail and the look of someone sharp of wit and mind. Connor (20s, full name Connor Everett), in contrast, looks like one of your sleepier koala bears, with a fixed grin upon his face, and an expression that seems not to mind that he is being taken to the cleaners by his opponent, and unlikely for the first time today. The game is over; Barbara has won, again. Normal Matt, who’s there and watching, cheers for Barbara’s victory, then smoothly palms a small package to each of them—Joe just barely catches this in the corner of his eye.
Joe gets a call. It’s from Gloria Mendez, or “Glo,” an ex-girlfriend with whom he still shares a close friendship. It turns out she was the one who suggested that he seek help for his psychological symptoms. When she suggests that this turn of events (him winding up at Hayes instead of Butterworth) could be a blessing in disguise, Joe becomes angry, then more so, when she reveals that the piano that arrived yesterday was donated to the unit by her parents, who own a piano dealership. Glo tries to explain that this was just her parents’ way of trying to help. Joe, embarrassed, becomes angry, and hangs up, though it is clear that he not only still misses her, but that he still cares for her and very much so.
Joe heads back to the rec room, facetiously asking permission to do so from Nurse Anne as he passes her in the hallway. Eddie’s there, sitting and reading. So is Callie, sitting in a chair and staring into the near distance. Joe asks Eddie if he would mind if Joe play something on the piano. Eddie shrugs—why not? Joe sits on the stool, and starts playing (MONDAY). When he finishes, Matt is in the doorway, applauding. He pulls Joe aside and offers him a “happy pill.” When Joe reflects that he has no money. Matt tells him not to worry, he can just “owe” him. “Owe you what?” asks Joe. “Oh, anything. Take Barb and Connor—they chose to owe me a game of ping pong. That’s forty minutes of entertainment, right there! And easy work for them.” Joe nods. “Ask me again later,” he replies.
Joe tries going to the bathroom for the first time. He can’t. He seeks help from the nurse in charge. It’s Nurse Anne. Telling her her that he’s sure she’ll find a great deal of humor in his pain, she contradicts him, offering him helpful advice, and some mild medication to help his regularity. Joe’s surprised, “Why the change of heart?” he asks. It’s then that he hears music wafting in from the rec room. “What the…” he says as he quickly rises and jogs over there. There sits Callie, playing the song, the very one that Joe was playing the day before, note for note, on the rec room piano. Nurse Anne arrives, standing behind him. “I don’t know what you did, but something about that song got her going” (MONDAY, REPRISE)
Joe goes over and sits by Callie on the piano bench. She flinches a little as he arrives, but lets him stay. They play a few simple duets together, chopsticks, heart and soul etc. Joe chuckles at their burgeoning repertoire; Callie smiles genuinely but still sits in silence. There’s a popular TV show playing on the set. Joe notices Callie’s attention has drifted and she has taken to watching it (the show). Joe starts playing some music. It’s one of the TV show’s themes. Callie smiles. She starts playing tentatively with him. As his playing gets more and more spirited, she begins to sway back and forth with the music. Eventually she starts clapping.
Then—she laughs.
Watching from the window, Nurse Anne, some patients, and a handful of staff member’s jaws drop to the floor. No one is quite sure what to make of this. It’s the first noise (vocal, and other than moaning) she’s made since she’s been here. But then, a bell rings to signify that it is approaching bedtime. Callie is wheeled back to her room humming. As Joe passes Nurse Anne, she pats him on the back, appreciatively, and says, “Joe for the win.” As Joe gives her a smile, she replies, “Doesn’t mean I like you.” (WHAT WILL I BE)
~ Intermission ~
At breakfast the next morning, Barbara asks Joe why he’s here, remarking that as things go he seems pretty stable. He considers deflecting, but there’s a small group gathered, and she’s asked quite loudly. Realizing himself to be in an unavoidable situation, he tells his story (OUT OF MY MIND). What it boils down to is that he has a cold and emotionally abusive father, who’s behavior has terrorized Joe for much of his life. He’s had to put up with vitriol directed at him, accusing him of being “weak,” “useless,” or “lazy” or whatever else be the punishing insult of the day. The emotional strain ruined his relationship with Glo, and, most recently, after a particularly brutal phone conversation, Joe smashed the glass of a fire extinguisher in his building, then removed the axe, and proceeded to chop up his apartment. He’d been introduced to the Butterworth Center by his mother, who had spent individual days there in some of their clinics, so Joe check himself in. It’s little more than a day spa, and not really any kind of serious mental health unit. But the cucumber water is cold, and the scented towels are hot, so it’s always seemed like a good option to Joe. Were it not for his carelessness in starting the fire, he might never have come across Hayes at all.
From the rec room en route to his and Matt’s bedroom, Joe walks past the game room. There, Matt sits opposite Callie. He’s doing magic tricks with her—hiding a coin beneath one of three upturned cups. However, he doesn’t seem to be noticing how frustrated Callie is getting each time she is unable to guess the answer correctly. Joe interrupts them, telling Matt to take it easy with her, noticing that she’s groaning, shaking, flushed, and pulling at her hair in frustration. Matt checks the clock—he has an appointment anyway, so he has to stop. Joe asks him who he could possibly have an appointment with here, but Matt stays mum, simply putting a finger to his lips and shushing his roommate. Joe’s now on his way out, when he hears the words, “Thank you.” Turning back and seeing Callie watching him, he takes a gamble, saying, “Noon, in the rec room. Bring your fingers.” She just about manages a smile; Joe gives her a nod, and is gone.
There’s a dead end corridor to his left, with a high set of shelves holding art supplies. At the end of it sits the piano bench. Scoffing at the use of the bench as a stepladder, Joe heads to retrieve it and return it to its place. One his way back, he walks past a storage closet, and hears the distinct sound of two people having sex (MAKE MY DAY). Gasping, he drops the piano bench. There’s a loud *crack* and all sounds from inside the closet cease. Panicking, Joe paces around like a headless chicken before quietly picking up the bench. It’s too late; the door opens.
It’s Matt, who tells him in a friendly-yet-vaguely-threatening way not to pay attention or ideally remember anything he’s just seen or heard. Matt’s mood then drastically changes, and he affably offers Joe another of his happy pills. From the within the closet, there’s a familiar smell—some impressively good-smelling women’s shampoo. Matt again impresses upon Joe not to think further on this. As Joe passes the nurses’ bay; he sees the roster; the on-duty nurses are Carter, and Laura. Joe gulps--she was the other person in the closet. Concerned about what kind of twisted circle he’s stumbled into, Joe hopes the rest of the day will be more normal.
Somebody screams. It doesn’t stop. One of the patients—Eddie’s roommate, it turns out—had a panic attack, which has triggered a fully-fledged psychotic break. He’s throwing chairs up and down the halls and screaming at the top of his lungs. People have emerged from their rooms. Joe watches along with Eddie. He asks what happened. Eddie, usually never without an opinion to offer, is lost for words.
Eventually, security arrives and subdues the patient. He is put in restraints and confined to his room—his voice can still be heard screaming. He is given a sedative, and now only moans quietly. Still, it’s an eerie and unsettling sound. A security perimeter has been set up. Joe stands at its edge, and listens to the moans wafting out from inside Eddie’s room. Someone’s tapping him on the shoulder. It’s Nurse Anne. “No schadenfreude,” she directs him. Joe nods, and Nurse Anne adds, “Besides, from what I’ve heard from Callie, you have an appointment to keep.” She points him towards the rec room as Eddie reflects upon the circumstances that brought him to Hayes (DAY WILL BE MINE).
On the way there Joe runs into Matt, who is buttoning up and readjusting his shirt. “Mum’s the word,” says Matt with a smile, then asks Joe if he is heading back to their room. Matt needs his stopwatch. He’s going to the bathroom and needs it to time his visit. He has a system wherein he times his bathroom breaks perfectly, so he never has to run into one of those pesky MHPs doing “checks” (i.e. a process wherein all patients are accounted for, roughly every fifteen to twenty minutes, no matter where they happen to be). Running into checks during a bathroom visit, to him, would be embarrassing beyond tolerance. Joe jokes, calling Matt “lucky” as he himself hasn’t managed a succesful bowel movement since he’s been here. Matt repeats the words of Billy the group facilitator—“Mind move mountain”—in a genuine attempt to help, but its of little comfort to Joe (MIND MOVE MOUNTAIN, REPRISE).
In any case Matt’s out of luck, as Joe is headed straight to the rec room to meet Callie. Replacing the folding chair that is sat in front of the piano with its rightful stool, he sits at it, and shrugs at Callie, asking her what she’d like to hear. Callie is starting to speak more, and she encourages Joe to speak to her, as it might help her with regaining muscle memory. Callie is writing in a notebook which, when Joe’s inquires about it, turns out is a collection of exercises given to her by one of the group facilitators, intended to help her with motor control. Joe remarks that she’s working hard. Callie responds, saying she wants to get better and quickly—there are children, and animals, who depend on her outside these walls.
Callie works at a dog rescue organization, which finds and pairs dogs who need homes and well-screened adopters; it also works to rehabilitate and train dogs who are good candidates to be therapy animals for young children with developmental difficulties. “Shit,” says Joe, remaking that Callie does actual good, important work. When Callie asks him what he does, he deftly changes the subject, hoping to avoid explaining how his wealthy family allows him (or, at least, has allowed him) a cushy lifestyle of not doing much at all.
In group, participants are asked to tell a story about a moment in their life that has shaped them into who they are today. Connor tells a story of how his parents inadvertently killed his sense of curiosity and spirit of adventure, turning him into the ambivalent, phlegmatic person that he is now (THE GELATO SONG).
But as his story ends, someone else has started hollering from down the corridor. So much for a normal day, thinks Joe to himself. As per usual, the patients have swarmed the halls. This time, it’s Matt who is screaming. Without his stopwatch, his method of timing his toilet runs has failed—someone walked in on him—and he is now crying bloody murder at all the MHPs. Nurse Laura approaches, hoping to be able to calm him down, but so crazed is he that he slaps her in the face hard. She spins and falls to the ground. The security personnel have arrived, and pounce on Matt, who’s still crying, screaming, and now flailing, in the midst of a complete mental break, his obsessive compulsion having been interrupted so abruptly.
They sedate him, and place him in a light restraints. This doesn’t stop him, and he runs, trying to do who knows what, as all doors are locked and/or supervised by the nurses and MHPs. He slams into a door, then runs into it, at full pace, again, and again, and again, all the while shouting at the top of his lungs. He’s head butting it now, and his nose bleeds, and there’s a big gash in his forehead. It takes three security guards to finally stop him, inject him with a sedative, and place him in a heavy psychiatric bed with heavy leather restraints. He lies there, at first struggling, eventually becoming still (FIND MY OWN WAY). Nurse Laura picks herself up. Her lip is bleeding. She walks past Nurse Anne to the dispensary. Nurse Anne doesn’t turn to help.
Some days later. Puzzlingly, there’s an administrative team walking into Matt’s room. Nurse Anne looks furious, but stands, still, and as composed as she can be. “What’s going on?” asks a curious Joe. “Humanity at its worst, no doubt,” replies Nurse Anne, who them sweeps around and leaves in a huff.
Meeting Callie in the rec room, she’s playing a simple tune on the piano, and humming along with it. Joe asks her how she feels. With a sigh, she replies, “Not like killing myself.” Joe asks if that’s why she’s in here. Callie replies that, ostensibly, yes, but she’s been in a daze for the past month. Callie goes on to explain that she was put on an experimental new drug to help with her seizures, coinciding exactly the the time she started acting erratically, and like she was depressed and suicidal. Since coming to the unit, she’s been on a different medication, which has helped with her seizures, and, at no point has she felt depressed or suicidal. “Wait here,” says Joe.
Walking to the nurses’ station, Joe is met by Kyla, who’s running back towards him and crying. He asks what’s wrong, but she’s beyond distraught, runs into her room, and slams the door behind her. At the nurses’ station, Nurse Anne is packing her things. When Joe gives her a look, she fills him in. In an attempt to procure some leniency for himself, Matt has outed every single sniff of impropriety in this unit, be it his community of pill poppers (spelling correctional measures for nearly a dozen patients, including Barbara, and Connor—thankfully Joe refused every single one of his offers), his sexual relationship with Nurse Laura, Nurse’s Carter and Kyla’s fondness for one another, and Nurse Anne’s using of tap therapy and sharing traditional chinese herbs with Barbara. Joe is flabbergasted, believing that Nurse Anne has not done anything wrong. Nurse Anne counters, saying that she’s the boss. The others may have acted inappropriately, but she covered it up. She goes on to say that while there will be a cursory hearing, it won’t mean much. The board wants to see a head roll, not uncover the actual problems in this unit. She ends by telling him that can “strike up the band,” seeing as he’ll finally be rid of her. Joe rush-hugs her, telling her that he’ll do whatever he can (ALL IN SILENCE, REPRISE).
Nurse Anne’s hearing. Joe gives an impassioned testimony on her behalf. “Of all the medical professionals I’ve met in my life, she is the most competent, the most creative, the most canny, and the most compassionate. You will be throwing away a gem of a nurse, and a jewel of a person, if you let her go,” he says. Nurse Anne sits calmly in a corner, but gently wipes her eye as he finishes. They exchange a nod and a smile as he leaves. Along a corridor, he runs into Dr. Wise, who praises his past week of progress, he’s been attending almost every group, he’s been taking the optional homework very seriously, and going above and beyond to create and demonstrate new and healthy patterns of behavior. Dr. Wise goes on to tell him that what they meet for rounds tomorrow morning, he’ll be able to start discussing an exit plan, which could take effect perhaps even as soon as in 36 hours from now. Joe asks about Callie; Dr. Wise tells him not to worry about her, that she has her own path to take—besides, she only started talking relatively recently, considering an exit strategy for her would be premature at this time. Before Joe can protest, Dr. Wise pats him on the shoulder and leaves.
Feeling a sense of emboldenment from the day’s events so far, Joe calls his ex-girlfriend, Glo. He fills her in on what’s been going on, and tells her he wants to start again, that he has a sense of how he can be better for her, and better for him. The people he’s met here have given him a new perspective on life. He wants to participate. He wants to try. He wants to be curious. He can do better, and he will. Glo is moved to tears. She thanks him for his candor, but needs to share with him the fact that she’s seeing someone right now. She’s said goodbye, but then, for some reason, she tells Joe she loves him, and the two hang up. Joe, a confusing mess of strange emotions, runs to the rec room and, on the piano, starts writing a new song (COCOVOCO (MORE THAN YOU KNOW)).
Nurse Anne takes the fall for everything that happened. Having lost her job, she leaves, quietly and unceremoniously. Nurse Laura, shielded by Nurse Anne’s firing, is given the option of staying on, but she transfers herself out to another of the hospital’s wings (NOBODY ELSE CAN SING YOUR SONG).
That night, Joe has settled into bed. He turns out his light, but then there’s a knock on the door. Expecting it to be an MHP doing their routine checks, Joe is surprised when the door opens, and in rolls Callie. They haven’t seen each other all day, and it feels weird not to have. Joe tries to start conversation, but Callie locks her wheelchair wheels. “What are you doing?” asks Joe, but Callie places a finger on his mouth. Then, straining with effort, she lifts herself out of her wheelchair and slides herself so she is sitting astride Joe. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” she says, running her fingers through his hair gently, “I’m gonna miss you.” “Well, I mean not necessarily…” starts Joe, but he’s interrupted as Callie leans down, and kisses him, long, and hard, and all fades to black.
The next day. Early in the morning, with a caring hug and pecks on the cheek, Nurse Carter and Kyla decide to call things off, and to not pursue each other once Kyla has been discharged, as Nurse Carter is appointed head nurse (LIGHT IN MY LIFE).
Joe sits at his rounds meeting with Dr. Wise and his team. Dr. Wise tells Joe that he thinks that he (Joe) is ready to leave the unit. Joe disagrees. In his mind, he’s just gone through the motions, as he always has his whole life. He hasn’t really participated, which is what he’d like to do now—he wants to be an active partner in his own healing. Dr. Wise remarks that this is highly unusual, for someone to reject a diagnosis of being ready to leave. Joe shrugs. “You know who you should talk exit strategies with? Callie. She’s participated, she’s worked her socks off to get back from where she was when she arrived, to where she is now. The only reason why she was there in the first place due to an error in the system. You keep her here, you’re just punishing her for someone else’s mistakes. Let’s not do that twice in the same week.” He says the last sentence pointedly—a nod to Nurse Anne. Dr Wise coughs, embarrassedly, remarking that this sort of testimony on behalf of someone else is highly unusual. Joe maintains that Callie should leave. She has wrongs, the wrongs of others, that she has to set right, a life, and a child to get back to. “She’s on the right path,” Joe says in closing. “She’s just a little weird.”
Dr. Wise squints and glares at Joe. Joe does his best not to squirm. “If I didn’t know better,” says Dr. Wise, “I’d say there was something going on between you two.” “Well, you don’t know better,” replies Joe, boldly, “so quit speculating and let her leave.” Reluctantly, the bemused trio of mental health professionals excuse him, and Joe is free to go back to the unit to await the results of their deliberation.
The next day. There’s an air of excitement at the front door of the Hayes Hospital’s Mental Health Wing. An elevator is descending with patients that have been released today. The first out is Eddie, he of anger management issues. The second is Mike, he whose law enforcement job brought him sorrow and trauma. They are each met by members of their family, parents, siblings, and children. There’s excitement. Things eventually calm, as the two former patients and their brethren head out.
Silence, for a few moments. Then, the second of the two elevators rings. The doors open, and Callie emerges, not in her wheelchair but, with a cane, walking. There’s trepidation in her steps, for sure, but also courage, and a sense of unyielding curiosity. She steps through the automatic doors, and gazes out at the great wild world before her (BREATHE MY AIR TODAY).
Looking up towards the fourth floor (where the unit is located) she sees in a corner room a young man seated by a window. It’s Joe. She smiles. Up in the room, without quite knowing why, Joe looks out the window. There’s no one there; Callie has gone. Chuckling, he returns his attention to the group that he is attending. Happy to be given this chance to learn to participate in a process of healing himself, he will leave when he is ready (MIND MOVE MOUNTAIN, FINALE)
From the rec room en route to his and Matt’s bedroom, Joe walks past the game room. There, Matt sits opposite Callie. He’s doing magic tricks with her—hiding a coin beneath one of three upturned cups. However, he doesn’t seem to be noticing how frustrated Callie is getting each time she is unable to guess the answer correctly. Joe interrupts them, telling Matt to take it easy with her, noticing that she’s groaning, shaking, flushed, and pulling at her hair in frustration. Matt checks the clock—he has an appointment anyway, so he has to stop. Joe asks him who he could possibly have an appointment with here, but Matt stays mum, simply putting a finger to his lips and shushing his roommate. Joe’s now on his way out, when he hears the words, “Thank you.” Turning back and seeing Callie watching him, he takes a gamble, saying, “Noon, in the rec room. Bring your fingers.” She just about manages a smile; Joe gives her a nod, and is gone.
There’s a dead end corridor to his left, with a high set of shelves holding art supplies. At the end of it sits the piano bench. Scoffing at the use of the bench as a stepladder, Joe heads to retrieve it and return it to its place. One his way back, he walks past a storage closet, and hears the distinct sound of two people having sex (MAKE MY DAY). Gasping, he drops the piano bench. There’s a loud *crack* and all sounds from inside the closet cease. Panicking, Joe paces around like a headless chicken before quietly picking up the bench. It’s too late; the door opens.
It’s Matt, who tells him in a friendly-yet-vaguely-threatening way not to pay attention or ideally remember anything he’s just seen or heard. Matt’s mood then drastically changes, and he affably offers Joe another of his happy pills. From the within the closet, there’s a familiar smell—some impressively good-smelling women’s shampoo. Matt again impresses upon Joe not to think further on this. As Joe passes the nurses’ bay; he sees the roster; the on-duty nurses are Carter, and Laura. Joe gulps--she was the other person in the closet. Concerned about what kind of twisted circle he’s stumbled into, Joe hopes the rest of the day will be more normal.
Somebody screams. It doesn’t stop. One of the patients—Eddie’s roommate, it turns out—had a panic attack, which has triggered a fully-fledged psychotic break. He’s throwing chairs up and down the halls and screaming at the top of his lungs. People have emerged from their rooms. Joe watches along with Eddie. He asks what happened. Eddie, usually never without an opinion to offer, is lost for words.
Eventually, security arrives and subdues the patient. He is put in restraints and confined to his room—his voice can still be heard screaming. He is given a sedative, and now only moans quietly. Still, it’s an eerie and unsettling sound. A security perimeter has been set up. Joe stands at its edge, and listens to the moans wafting out from inside Eddie’s room. Someone’s tapping him on the shoulder. It’s Nurse Anne. “No schadenfreude,” she directs him. Joe nods, and Nurse Anne adds, “Besides, from what I’ve heard from Callie, you have an appointment to keep.” She points him towards the rec room as Eddie reflects upon the circumstances that brought him to Hayes (DAY WILL BE MINE).
On the way there Joe runs into Matt, who is buttoning up and readjusting his shirt. “Mum’s the word,” says Matt with a smile, then asks Joe if he is heading back to their room. Matt needs his stopwatch. He’s going to the bathroom and needs it to time his visit. He has a system wherein he times his bathroom breaks perfectly, so he never has to run into one of those pesky MHPs doing “checks” (i.e. a process wherein all patients are accounted for, roughly every fifteen to twenty minutes, no matter where they happen to be). Running into checks during a bathroom visit, to him, would be embarrassing beyond tolerance. Joe jokes, calling Matt “lucky” as he himself hasn’t managed a succesful bowel movement since he’s been here. Matt repeats the words of Billy the group facilitator—“Mind move mountain”—in a genuine attempt to help, but its of little comfort to Joe (MIND MOVE MOUNTAIN, REPRISE).
In any case Matt’s out of luck, as Joe is headed straight to the rec room to meet Callie. Replacing the folding chair that is sat in front of the piano with its rightful stool, he sits at it, and shrugs at Callie, asking her what she’d like to hear. Callie is starting to speak more, and she encourages Joe to speak to her, as it might help her with regaining muscle memory. Callie is writing in a notebook which, when Joe’s inquires about it, turns out is a collection of exercises given to her by one of the group facilitators, intended to help her with motor control. Joe remarks that she’s working hard. Callie responds, saying she wants to get better and quickly—there are children, and animals, who depend on her outside these walls.
Callie works at a dog rescue organization, which finds and pairs dogs who need homes and well-screened adopters; it also works to rehabilitate and train dogs who are good candidates to be therapy animals for young children with developmental difficulties. “Shit,” says Joe, remaking that Callie does actual good, important work. When Callie asks him what he does, he deftly changes the subject, hoping to avoid explaining how his wealthy family allows him (or, at least, has allowed him) a cushy lifestyle of not doing much at all.
In group, participants are asked to tell a story about a moment in their life that has shaped them into who they are today. Connor tells a story of how his parents inadvertently killed his sense of curiosity and spirit of adventure, turning him into the ambivalent, phlegmatic person that he is now (THE GELATO SONG).
But as his story ends, someone else has started hollering from down the corridor. So much for a normal day, thinks Joe to himself. As per usual, the patients have swarmed the halls. This time, it’s Matt who is screaming. Without his stopwatch, his method of timing his toilet runs has failed—someone walked in on him—and he is now crying bloody murder at all the MHPs. Nurse Laura approaches, hoping to be able to calm him down, but so crazed is he that he slaps her in the face hard. She spins and falls to the ground. The security personnel have arrived, and pounce on Matt, who’s still crying, screaming, and now flailing, in the midst of a complete mental break, his obsessive compulsion having been interrupted so abruptly.
They sedate him, and place him in a light restraints. This doesn’t stop him, and he runs, trying to do who knows what, as all doors are locked and/or supervised by the nurses and MHPs. He slams into a door, then runs into it, at full pace, again, and again, and again, all the while shouting at the top of his lungs. He’s head butting it now, and his nose bleeds, and there’s a big gash in his forehead. It takes three security guards to finally stop him, inject him with a sedative, and place him in a heavy psychiatric bed with heavy leather restraints. He lies there, at first struggling, eventually becoming still (FIND MY OWN WAY). Nurse Laura picks herself up. Her lip is bleeding. She walks past Nurse Anne to the dispensary. Nurse Anne doesn’t turn to help.
Some days later. Puzzlingly, there’s an administrative team walking into Matt’s room. Nurse Anne looks furious, but stands, still, and as composed as she can be. “What’s going on?” asks a curious Joe. “Humanity at its worst, no doubt,” replies Nurse Anne, who them sweeps around and leaves in a huff.
Meeting Callie in the rec room, she’s playing a simple tune on the piano, and humming along with it. Joe asks her how she feels. With a sigh, she replies, “Not like killing myself.” Joe asks if that’s why she’s in here. Callie replies that, ostensibly, yes, but she’s been in a daze for the past month. Callie goes on to explain that she was put on an experimental new drug to help with her seizures, coinciding exactly the the time she started acting erratically, and like she was depressed and suicidal. Since coming to the unit, she’s been on a different medication, which has helped with her seizures, and, at no point has she felt depressed or suicidal. “Wait here,” says Joe.
Walking to the nurses’ station, Joe is met by Kyla, who’s running back towards him and crying. He asks what’s wrong, but she’s beyond distraught, runs into her room, and slams the door behind her. At the nurses’ station, Nurse Anne is packing her things. When Joe gives her a look, she fills him in. In an attempt to procure some leniency for himself, Matt has outed every single sniff of impropriety in this unit, be it his community of pill poppers (spelling correctional measures for nearly a dozen patients, including Barbara, and Connor—thankfully Joe refused every single one of his offers), his sexual relationship with Nurse Laura, Nurse’s Carter and Kyla’s fondness for one another, and Nurse Anne’s using of tap therapy and sharing traditional chinese herbs with Barbara. Joe is flabbergasted, believing that Nurse Anne has not done anything wrong. Nurse Anne counters, saying that she’s the boss. The others may have acted inappropriately, but she covered it up. She goes on to say that while there will be a cursory hearing, it won’t mean much. The board wants to see a head roll, not uncover the actual problems in this unit. She ends by telling him that can “strike up the band,” seeing as he’ll finally be rid of her. Joe rush-hugs her, telling her that he’ll do whatever he can (ALL IN SILENCE, REPRISE).
Nurse Anne’s hearing. Joe gives an impassioned testimony on her behalf. “Of all the medical professionals I’ve met in my life, she is the most competent, the most creative, the most canny, and the most compassionate. You will be throwing away a gem of a nurse, and a jewel of a person, if you let her go,” he says. Nurse Anne sits calmly in a corner, but gently wipes her eye as he finishes. They exchange a nod and a smile as he leaves. Along a corridor, he runs into Dr. Wise, who praises his past week of progress, he’s been attending almost every group, he’s been taking the optional homework very seriously, and going above and beyond to create and demonstrate new and healthy patterns of behavior. Dr. Wise goes on to tell him that what they meet for rounds tomorrow morning, he’ll be able to start discussing an exit plan, which could take effect perhaps even as soon as in 36 hours from now. Joe asks about Callie; Dr. Wise tells him not to worry about her, that she has her own path to take—besides, she only started talking relatively recently, considering an exit strategy for her would be premature at this time. Before Joe can protest, Dr. Wise pats him on the shoulder and leaves.
Feeling a sense of emboldenment from the day’s events so far, Joe calls his ex-girlfriend, Glo. He fills her in on what’s been going on, and tells her he wants to start again, that he has a sense of how he can be better for her, and better for him. The people he’s met here have given him a new perspective on life. He wants to participate. He wants to try. He wants to be curious. He can do better, and he will. Glo is moved to tears. She thanks him for his candor, but needs to share with him the fact that she’s seeing someone right now. She’s said goodbye, but then, for some reason, she tells Joe she loves him, and the two hang up. Joe, a confusing mess of strange emotions, runs to the rec room and, on the piano, starts writing a new song (COCOVOCO (MORE THAN YOU KNOW)).
Nurse Anne takes the fall for everything that happened. Having lost her job, she leaves, quietly and unceremoniously. Nurse Laura, shielded by Nurse Anne’s firing, is given the option of staying on, but she transfers herself out to another of the hospital’s wings (NOBODY ELSE CAN SING YOUR SONG).
That night, Joe has settled into bed. He turns out his light, but then there’s a knock on the door. Expecting it to be an MHP doing their routine checks, Joe is surprised when the door opens, and in rolls Callie. They haven’t seen each other all day, and it feels weird not to have. Joe tries to start conversation, but Callie locks her wheelchair wheels. “What are you doing?” asks Joe, but Callie places a finger on his mouth. Then, straining with effort, she lifts herself out of her wheelchair and slides herself so she is sitting astride Joe. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” she says, running her fingers through his hair gently, “I’m gonna miss you.” “Well, I mean not necessarily…” starts Joe, but he’s interrupted as Callie leans down, and kisses him, long, and hard, and all fades to black.
The next day. Early in the morning, with a caring hug and pecks on the cheek, Nurse Carter and Kyla decide to call things off, and to not pursue each other once Kyla has been discharged, as Nurse Carter is appointed head nurse (LIGHT IN MY LIFE).
Joe sits at his rounds meeting with Dr. Wise and his team. Dr. Wise tells Joe that he thinks that he (Joe) is ready to leave the unit. Joe disagrees. In his mind, he’s just gone through the motions, as he always has his whole life. He hasn’t really participated, which is what he’d like to do now—he wants to be an active partner in his own healing. Dr. Wise remarks that this is highly unusual, for someone to reject a diagnosis of being ready to leave. Joe shrugs. “You know who you should talk exit strategies with? Callie. She’s participated, she’s worked her socks off to get back from where she was when she arrived, to where she is now. The only reason why she was there in the first place due to an error in the system. You keep her here, you’re just punishing her for someone else’s mistakes. Let’s not do that twice in the same week.” He says the last sentence pointedly—a nod to Nurse Anne. Dr Wise coughs, embarrassedly, remarking that this sort of testimony on behalf of someone else is highly unusual. Joe maintains that Callie should leave. She has wrongs, the wrongs of others, that she has to set right, a life, and a child to get back to. “She’s on the right path,” Joe says in closing. “She’s just a little weird.”
Dr. Wise squints and glares at Joe. Joe does his best not to squirm. “If I didn’t know better,” says Dr. Wise, “I’d say there was something going on between you two.” “Well, you don’t know better,” replies Joe, boldly, “so quit speculating and let her leave.” Reluctantly, the bemused trio of mental health professionals excuse him, and Joe is free to go back to the unit to await the results of their deliberation.
The next day. There’s an air of excitement at the front door of the Hayes Hospital’s Mental Health Wing. An elevator is descending with patients that have been released today. The first out is Eddie, he of anger management issues. The second is Mike, he whose law enforcement job brought him sorrow and trauma. They are each met by members of their family, parents, siblings, and children. There’s excitement. Things eventually calm, as the two former patients and their brethren head out.
Silence, for a few moments. Then, the second of the two elevators rings. The doors open, and Callie emerges, not in her wheelchair but, with a cane, walking. There’s trepidation in her steps, for sure, but also courage, and a sense of unyielding curiosity. She steps through the automatic doors, and gazes out at the great wild world before her (BREATHE MY AIR TODAY).
Looking up towards the fourth floor (where the unit is located) she sees in a corner room a young man seated by a window. It’s Joe. She smiles. Up in the room, without quite knowing why, Joe looks out the window. There’s no one there; Callie has gone. Chuckling, he returns his attention to the group that he is attending. Happy to be given this chance to learn to participate in a process of healing himself, he will leave when he is ready (MIND MOVE MOUNTAIN, FINALE)
Scars are scars; it doesn't matter whence they came.
- Normal Matt, Continuity
Format:
Continuity is designed to be a live-performance concert event, performed in two acts, with one intermission in between. Despite its narrative elements, the show requires neither spoken dialogue, action, blocking, nor traditional dramatic interaction between the characters per se. Instead, the company performs the story through its emotional core, over the course of the show's twenty-four musical numbers, which include complete songs, as well as instrumental segues, and reprises of the various themes of the show. By using music and song as the show's sole conveyor, the goal is that the audience experience its emotional impact in its most direct fashion. A brief summary of the show's storyline (see "Plot Summary" above) can be provided as program notes during live performances, as an option for audience, if they so wish, to more explicitly understand the plot they are about to experience.
List of Numbers:
Act One:
Act Two:
- Prologue: I Need to Know / Spirit Calling (CALLIE & COMPANY)
- The Sun Also Rises (JOE)
- All In Silence (NURSE ANNE)
- Just a Guy (NORMAL MATT)
- Say You Love (KYLA)
- Still Walking (CALLIE)
- Mind Move Mountain (BILLY)
- Willow Weep for Me (MIKE)
- Three Days (NURSE LAURA)
- Monday (JOE)
- Monday, reprise (JOE)
- What Will I Be? (CALLIE)
Act Two:
- Out of My Mind (JOE)
- Make My Day (NORMAL MATT)
- Day Will Be Mine (EDDIE)
- Mind Move Mountain, reprise (NORMAL MATT)
- The Gelato Song (CONNOR)
- Find My Own Way (NORMAL MATT)
- All In Silence, reprise (NURSE ANNE)
- Cocovoco (More Than You Know) (JOE)
- Nobody Else Can Sing Your Song (NURSE LAURA)
- Light In My Life (NURSE CARTER, KYLA)
- Breathe My Air Today (CALLIE)
- Mind Move Mountain, finale (COMPANY)
