THE CUCKOO

A Dark Comedy in Five Scenes

By Leon Agulansky

SYNOPSIS

A small-town psychiatric hospital is on the verge of closure. The institution is unprofitable. Medications are being siphoned off. The patients are deemed incurable anyway. Aggressive investors are eyeing the property. 

There are schizophrenics among the patients who will never be discharged, manic-depressives, the intellectually disabled, chronic alcoholics, and criminals declared legally insane. 

For the hospital administration, closing means facing an investigation— the one that could expose their financial schemes. They make a decision to create an amateur theater troupe called “the Cuckoo” and stage “Romeo and Juliet” for the inspection committee, pitching it as a potential touring production for festivals of «theater with limited abilities». Seeing this as an opportunity to embezzle more funds, the city officials send the committee to evaluate the premiere. 

As rehearsals begin, life on the ward turns upside down. The patients forget their illnesses—they’re passionate, ecstatic, and determined to be heard. 

On the opening, Shakespeare’s text bleeds into their own words, giving the performance an unexpected, raw power. The committee members are stunned and beg to join the theater. 

Actors of various ages can be involved in the play.

Cast: 8 women

Duration of the Play 90 min.

THE CUCKOO

A Dark Comedy in Five Scenes

By Leon Agulansky

CHARACTERS

TAMARA …….. …Chief Doctor of the psychiatric hospital
ELENA ……….…..Deputy Chief Doctor
STEPANIDA …… Long-term patient
KATYA ……… …..Patient
KLARA ……… …..Patient
NINA ………. ……Patient
OLGA ………. ……Patient
TATA ………. ……Patient
MIKHALNA …….Orderly

Additional patients, inspectors, and ensemble performers.

PRODUCTION NOTE

The actors portray both psychiatric patients and the
characters from Romeo and Juliet during Scene Four.
Simple costume additions may be used to indicate the
Shakespearean roles.

SETTINGS

A provincial psychiatric hospital in present-day Russia or another country.

The characters’ names may be adapted to the country of production.

SCENE ONE

The Psychiatric Hospital

Upstage are two worn armchairs with a small coffee table between them. On the table sit a handsaw, several medical files, and an official-looking document.

TAMARA and ELENA, both in white lab coats, enter from opposite sides.

ELENA.
Morning.

TAMARA.
Same to you.

ELENA.
I’ve got rounds in ten minutes. What’s going on?

TAMARA.
What’s going on? Do you ever read your email? Or is that beneath the Deputy Chief Doctor now?

ELENA.
Oh, come on. What’s with the attitude? You know where my office is. Knock on the door. So—is this business or are you just looking for a fight?

TAMARA.
Sit down.

ELENA.
Uh-oh. This sounds serious.

TAMARA.
Have you been drinking already?

ELENA (laughing).

The boss is in a mood today.

TAMARA.
Look at this.

ELENA.
Damn.  I left my glasses in the office.

TAMARA.
Wonderful. The Deputy Chief Doctor comes to work half-blind.

ELENA.
But my hearing is excellent.

TAMARA.
They’re shutting us down.

ELENA.
What?

TAMARA.
The hospital.

ELENA.
You’re kidding.

TAMARA.
I wish I were.

ELENA.
We’re the only psychiatric hospital serving three districts.

TAMARA.
Apparently that’s not profit.

ELENA.
Since when is a hospital supposed to make a profit?

TAMARA.
That’s not the point. According to my sources, investors want the land.

ELENA.
And the patients?

TAMARA.
Maybe we’ll each take one home. Like stray cats.

ELENA.
So what’s the plan?

TAMARA.
The plan? Start memorizing your testimony. Once they close us, investigators will be crawling all over the place.

ELENA.
My charts are spotless. What exactly are they going to find?

TAMARA.
Your nurses.

ELENA.
Our nurses.

TAMARA.
Interesting distinction.

ELENA.
What’s that supposed to mean?

TAMARA.
Your nurses inject patients with water for injection and sell the medication.

ELENA.
Really?

TAMARA.
And somehow I never receive my cut.

ELENA.
You’ll have to prove that first.

TAMARA.
Please. Grab one nurse by the collar and she’ll sing like an opera star.

ELENA.
They’re our nurses. Yours and mine.

TAMARA laughs.

ELENA.
Careful, my friend.

TAMARA.
Friend?

ELENA.
Friendship should be treasured. Especially considering that your beautiful cabin was built with money from the hospital renovation budget.

TAMARA.
Watch your mouth.

ELENA.
The renovation barely happened. Meanwhile your kitchen staff got so fat they can’t fit through doorways anymore. One nearly flattened me in the corridor.

TAMARA.
You cure patients until they lose their appetite. We can’t let good food go to waste.

ELENA.
Waste? Like those prime steaks that somehow ended up at your barbecue?

Suddenly NINA rushes in.

NINA.

Tamara Borisovna! Tamara Borisovna!

TAMARA.
What now?

NINA.
It rained in the lobby! Then the sun came out with the rain! There are mushrooms everywhere! Porcini! People are stepping on them! We have to pick them up! We have to take them to the kitchen!

ELENA.
The people or the mushrooms?

NINA.
Both!

ELENA (to Tamara).

Nina. Schizophrenia. Catatonic syndrome. She’s been a tree for two years now.

TAMARA.
Did you leave the door unlocked again?

ELENA.
Ups.

TAMARA.
One day they’ll send you to the kitchen too.

ELENA.
Come on, Nina. (Gently.) After the rain, the soil is moist. Good for your roots.

NINA.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Thank you! Thank you!

ELENA.
Back to your room, little tree.

NINA.
I am NOT a little!

ELENA.
Sure. Adult tree. (Calling offstage.) Mikhalna!

NINA.
No! No! No!

ELENA.
Move along before we cut you down.

NINA.
Yes! Yes! Yes! (An orderly appears and escorts NINA out.)

TAMARA.
You need to be more delicate with them.

ELENA.
Noted.

Before they can continue, KATYA storms in.

KATYA.
Control your tree!

ELENA.
Good morning to you too.

KATYA.
She’s blocking the hallway, whipping people with branches. Says she’s protecting her mycelium.

TAMARA.
Her what?

KATYA.
Mycelium. Mushroom roots. She sprayed spores all over me.

ELENA.
That sounds unpleasant.

KATYA.
This place is insane.

(A Pause.)

KATYA. (CONT’D)

Actually, never mind. That’s literally the business model.

ELENA.
What do you want us to do?

KATYA.
Clear the hallway. I’m tired of hacking through the jungle every time I need the bathroom.

ELENA.
We’ll take care of it.

KATYA (pointed on the bottle on the table).
Is there at least alcohol involved?

ELENA.
No.

KATYA.
Scotch?

ELENA.
Get break.

KATYA.
Can I at least smell the cork?

TAMARA.
Out.

KATYA.
You’re all monsters. (Starts toward the door, then stops.)

KATYA. (CONT’D)
You know what’s funny? In today’s world, being sane is practically a disability.

(A beat.)

KATYA. (CONT’D)
You’ve got internet celebrities walking these halls. Nina could run a channel called One Hundred and One Recipes for Knitted Mushrooms. Tata could review books she’s never read. And nobody will ever know. (Pointing dramatically.) “Cuckoo”.

TAMARA.
What?

KATYA.
That’s your word. “Cuckoo”. (She leaves.)

(A silence.)

TAMARA.
I have an idea.

ELENA.
That’s usually dangerous.

TAMARA.
Inspectors are coming here looking for reasons to close us.

ELENA.
And?

TAMARA.
Let’s give them a show.

ELENA.
A show?

TAMARA.
A theater performance.

ELENA.
You’ve lost your mind.

TAMARA.
You’re the director of the immature theater.

ELENA.
Technically.

TAMARA.
How many performances?

ELENA.
Actually a…

TAMARA.
Come on! Without “a…!”

ELENA.
Three. “The Three Little Pigs”.

(A beat.)

ELENA. (CONT’D)
And“Winnie-the-Pooh”.

TAMARA.
Excellent. You’re directing.

ELENA.
Absolutely not.

TAMARA.
The Immature Theater “Cuckoo”.

ELENA.
That name is terrible.

TAMARA.
Perfect. We present a production. The city sees grants. The inspectors see rehabilitation. Everybody wins.

ELENA.
Except us.

TAMARA.
They’ll need us. Who else works with psychiatric patients?

ELENA.
Fair point.

TAMARA.
So. What do we perform?

ELENA.
Let’s drink first.

TAMARA (TAMARA produces a bottle. They propose a toast).

To our impending disaster.

ELENA.
To terrible decisions.

They drink.

TAMARA.
Now. The play.

ELENA.
We need something everyone knows. (Thinking.)

ELENA. (CONT’D)
“Romeo and Juliet”.

TAMARA.
Why?

ELENA.
Because even idiots know it.

TAMARA.
That’s the strongest argument you’ve made all day.

ELENA.
One problem.

TAMARA.
What now?

ELENA.
Romeo will probably be played by a woman.

TAMARA.
So?

ELENA.
They kiss.

TAMARA.
We’re a psychiatric hospital.

ELENA.
Outside is the real psychiatric hospital these days.

(A beat.)

TAMARA.
No kissing.

ELENA.
No kissing?

TAMARA.
No kissing. No touching. No scandals.

ELENA.
Shakespeare would be horrified.

TAMARA.
Shakespeare is dead.

ELENA.
Fair enough.

TAMARA.
Let’s hold auditions.

ELENA.
May God has mercy on us.

TAMARA.

Let’s check the patient files?

ELENA.

I memorized them all.

TAMARA.

What a good girl! Why are you still sitting? Let’s start!

ELENA (in the direction of the gearshift linkage).

Mikhalka, bring the Third Ward patients one by one to the Head Doctor’s office. Now.

MIKHALNA.

Oh, sure. Right away. As if I am prima donna…

TAMARA.

And what the others?

ELENA.

Their locomotion skills are pathetic. Healthy specimens first!

TAMARA.

Healthy people aren’t kept here.

ELENA.

Funny.

A knock at the door.

TAMARA.

Come in.

KLARA comes in.

ELENA.

It’s our Klara. She was convicted of murder, declared legally insane, and sentenced to eight years of mandatory treatment.

TAMARA.

Now that’s what I call stage presence! A real-life killer on the stage! Brava!

KLARA.

Damn right that I’m real. Damn right that I’m a killer. But why the hell are you talking about the stage?

TAMARA.

It’s great! So. Do you like poetry? (Shows “fuck you”.)

ELENA.

That’s expressive. But I can punish for that. You know me.

KLARA.

Uh-huh. I do.

TAMARA.

So…

KLARA.

So! So! So-o-o-o! So what?

TAMARA.

Look at her! She’s perfect!

ELENA (to KLARA).

Listen up, no interruptions. The ward will perform “Romeo and Juliet”.  Got it?

KLARA.

Are you… Are you… Are you crazy?!

TAMARA.

Ha. I adore her!

KLARA.

Jesus Christ. Now you’re perving on patients.

ELENA.

You stabbed your husband with an icepick, right?

KLARA.

Nope.

ELENA.

Nope?

KLARA.

I did with a screwdriver.

ELENA.

But you DID stab him?

KLARA.

Oh, I stabbed him really well.

ELENA.

Perfect. You’ll teach others to…

TAMARA.

Fencing!

ELENA.

Yes! So, you’ll get the role of Tybalt. Dismissed!

KLARA.

What? Tybalt is a man! Are you off your meds?!

ELENA.

Put something in your pants. You’ll get the script tonight. Go.

KLARA.

I won’t play a man, and I’m not going to put anything in my pants. I’m a woman!

ELENA.

Okay. Then play a woman. Do you want to be Juliet?

KLARA.

Of course, I will! And who plays Romeo?

ELENA.

Position is currently vacant.

KLARA.

But no way am I going to kiss a chick.

TAMARA.

Relax, we aren’t staging…

ELENA.

…an erotic show.

TAMARA.

Go.

ELENA.

Get back to your room.

KLARA is going out. KATYA comes in.

ELENA.

Katya is a voluntary patient. She suffers from chronic alcoholism and admits herself to rehab three times a year.

TAMARA.

Our healthiest resident.

KATYA.

Yep. The buffer zone, the waiting room of this house of sorrow — the tester, you could say, the bridge between past and future

TAMARA.

Listen. We’re…

KATYA.

Yeah, I’ve heard about it already. But the informant is unreliable. Is it true or a joke? Are you actually staging a play in a nuthouse? Or is my squirrel back?

ELENA.

You know the alcoholic delirium mean seeing snakes…

KATYA (pointed to TAMARA and ELENA).

And the crocodiles around. Obviously.

TAMARA.

And you’re Miss Universe.

KATYA.

With makeup…

TAMARA.

Tybalt is your role. OK?

KATYA.

Tybalt? Hmm.

TAMARA.

Sure. (To Katya) And go glam up, hot stuff.

KATYA.

If I’m the star now, maybe I can get a little courage?

TAMARA.

After the show. I promise.

ELENA.

It’s forbidden.

TAMARA.

Ups! Too late – I’ve already promised. Go to your room, darling.

KATYA.

Perfect! After-party!

KATYA.

Who’s playing Romeo?

ELENA.

Position is currently vacant.

KATYA leaves. OLGA enters.

OLGA (talking to the hand).

Park the starship in the underground lot. It’s free there.

MIKHALNA.

Come in! Or I’ll adjust your orbit!

ELENA.

Meet our Olga.

OLGA.

I am NOT Olga, and you KNOW this!

ELENA.

Ah, sorry — my bad. This isn’t Olga. This is the Sun God. She rules the universe pro bono. World leaders secretly seek her counsel.

TAMARA.

Even the Ginger One?

OLGA.

Ha! Front row. But I’ve had enough with…

TAMARA.

Hush. Last thing we need here is politics.

OLGA.

Politics? Rodent drama for small minds!

TAMARA.

So, which role can you take? Duke or Romeo?

OLGA.

“Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized…”

TAMARA.

What a hidden genius! Perfect! Where’d that come from?

OLGA.

Shakespeare himself read me the draft. He asked for my comments.

TAMARA.

Shakespeare? Sure. By the way, how’s he doing?

OLGA.

He has prostate issues. I’ll arrange a urology consultation for him.

TAMARA.

Oh, interesting.

ELENA.

Your Solar Majesty, may I humbly ask you…  I kneel before your luminous genius…

TAMARA.

Radiant.

ELENA.

Sure. Radiant genius… I dare to ask you to play Romeo for our theater…

OLGA.

I’m too busy. The galaxy is in shambles. My ship must be fueled with crystals and plasma. I know they can’t do without me. I must keep an eye, I’m very busy. But… I’ll try.

TAMARA.

Seriously?!

OLGA.

Yep. I will do it.

TAMARA.

Great! Your Majesty, we dare not further detain you from cosmic priorities.

TAMARA and ELENA both curtsy together as Olga walks out.

TAMARA.

Oh, damn it! I’ve twisted my knee.

A knock at the door.

TAMARA.

Mikhalna, wait. Timeout. Hit me with the good stuff.

ELENA (pointing to the bottle).

Want me to rub it?

TAMARA.

Internal use works better. I’ll get my dog on it at home. People say dog hair helps.

ELENA.

If you had a man, he’d take care of.

TAMARA.

Men, men… Pfff. The good ones are taken. The bad ones? No, thanks. I’ll manage. Pour.

TAMARA.

Look who’s talking — single for years yourself, yet full of advice. At least you have a daughter. All I’ve got is a dog, and it’s ancient.

ELENA.

And if we’re being honest… neither of us are spring chickens anymore.

TAMARA.

Oh! You’ve noticed?

ELENA.

Yeah. I peeked that info at my passport.

TAMARA.

It all went so damn fast. Sideways. Crooked. Wrong. We wasted our lives in this shithole. Clocking in at the nuthouse every day.

ELENA.

True. But don’t blame the hospital. It’s all we’ve got left. All we will ever have.

TAMARA.

What about your drama club? 

ELENA. Immature Theater! Show some respect! I’m being serious here.

TAMARA.

Alright, enough moping. Back to work. Mikhalna? Go on!

TATA comes in.

TATA.

Hi!

ELENA.

This is Tata, our little Tata. She’s an orphan living with an intellectual disability. She is very quiet and obedient, and she often helps the orderlies around the ward. Oh, Tata, what a cute hat you have!

TATA.

Yeah, hat! Katya gave it to me! We were watching TV about aliens… They said aliens can read minds!! I got scared. But Katya said this helmet would protect me! And glasses too. Katya is really nice.

TAMARA.

Tata, do you read books?

TATA.

Nooo, it’s boring… I look at pictures. Comics.

TAMARA.

Do you watch TV?

TATA.

Yeah. TV, TV. They show mom and dad there.

TAMARA.

Show her “Romeo and Juliet”.

ELENA.

I’ll show everyone, not just her.

TAMARA.

So? Is she Juliet’s Sister?

ELENA.

Juliet’s daughter. Wait no, she was only 13… Let’s give her a role of a maid. Almost no lines. She’ll manage.

TAMARA.

Go, Tata. Good girl. Go now.

TATA.

A maid? Sure. I’ll be the maid — but what’s that?

TATA leaves. NINA enters.

ELENA.

And here’s Nina again — our weeping willow. We treat, we try, we struggle — zero progress.

TAMARA.

At least there are no termites or woodpeckers. Maybe some squirrels moved in?

ELENA.

Tamara, what the hell?

NINA.

It is such a hot day. It’s boiling. Water me, quickly! I’ll wither — no more shade for you all!

ELENA.

Holy shit — she’s perfect for Mercutio! Shakespeare himself couldn’t write this monologue!

TAMARA.

Oh! You like it! Really like it!

NINA.

I’m drying out! Water, water me now!

TAMARA.

I’ll bring my dog tomorrow. It’ll water you. Wait.

NINA.

Autumn… Do you feel it? It’s autumn. My leaves have yellowed… but still cling.

TAMARA.

True. Our medical robes are definitely yellow. We should order new ones before the inspection.

ELENA.

Brilliant, Nina! Absolutely brilliant! You’ll be in our play! Theater is like the wind – it’ll shake you up, blow the nonsense right out of your mind, set everything straight. What do you say?

NINA.

I’m in.

TAMARA.

Great. Go.

NINA.

Yeeees.

TAMARA.

What “yes”? Go to your room. Move the roots.

NINA.

Go to your room. Move the roots.

TAMARA.

No dog today. It’s at home. You get it?!

NINA. No dog today. It’s at home. You get it?!

TAMARA (is shouting at her).

Jesus. Enough!

NINA leaves.

ELENA.

OK. We’ve got this one, that one… who’s missing?

TAMARA.

What we’re missing is whiskey shot.

ELENA.

Rrrright. And the Duke of Verona.

TAMARA.

Let’s hope that he’s knocking.

A knock at the door. STEPANIDA enters.

ELENA.

This is Stepanida. She has bi-polar disease — Manic-depressive disorder…

STEPANIDA (speaks very fast).

“Stepanida” is so long. Call me “Stjopa”. And I have NO “disorder”. It’s nonsense. Absolute, total nonsense. Exactly ten years ago, on the 24th of October, at 6:15 PM, I was in a car accident. I was cut off on the road by Mikhail Grigorievich Stepankov: born in 1972, Russian, unmarried, registered at 9 Grazhdansky street, Building 5, Apartment 44, Second Entrance, First Floor. I struck the side of his gray sedan with license plate 42-12.

ELENA.

During depressive episodes, she loses weight drastically. In manic phases, she speaks languages she’s never heard.

STEPANIDA.

A doctor examined me and slapped this horrific diagnosis on me. Since then -force-feeding me pills, stabbing me with needles and it’s all pointless! Absolutely pointless! I filed complaints, and they promised to investigate. I wrote letters, and they promised responses. My last letter was sent May 21st at 12:30 PM to 25 Chelyuskintsev street, Office 22. (She pauses to catch breath.)

TAMARA.

She is too temperamental for the Duke, no?

ELENA.

We’ll adjust her dosage, and she’ll mellow.

STEPANIDA.

I am addressing you, personally. And I demand, with full accountability, that you review my file and discharge me now, immediately! And stop this ridiculous charade! Ha-ha-ha! Not funny!

ELENA.

What a monologue! My drama club can quit.

TAMARA.

We’ve just been reviewing your medical history…

STEPANIDA.

And? What’s the verdict? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! What?

TAMARA.

We might discharge you to outpatient care… after a little cognitive test. Paperwork, you understand.

STEPANIDA.

Yes-yes-yes! I’ll pass anything you want, ready to do it right now!

TAMARA.

The test is… difficult and quite unusual.

STEPANIDA.

I don’t care! I’m ready! I’m ready! I’m…

TAMARA (interrupts).

You! You’ll play the Duke of Verona in our hospital theater performance. That’s it.

STEPANIDA (quotes).

“Who dares to disturb the quiet of our streets? Come, Montague; for thou art early up, to see thy son and heir more early down”.

TAMARA.

Wow! Brilliant! Completely incredible! So, deal?

STEPANIDA.

Deal!

STEPANIDA leaves.

TAMARA.

Maybe we shouldn’t sedate her? She may forget the text.

ELENA.

I’ll think about it. We’ll stage an abridged version of the play. I’ll prepare it. Something might come of it. The script will be given them tomorrow. We’ll start with…

TAMARA.

Warm-ups.

ELENA.

Exactly!

Filling the shot glasses.

TAMARA.

Po-o-our!

TAMARA.

Anyway! Cheers to Shakespeare! Hooray!

ELENA.

Cheers to Shakespeare! Hooray!

They are drinking.

Blackout.

Scene Two

The dayroom of the psychiatric ward.

The PATIENTS are scattered throughout the room, half-heartedly performing morning exercises under STEPANIDA’S command.

MIKHALNA enters.

MIKHALNA.
Hey! Hey! Where do you think you’re going? Stay put!

STEPANIDA.
Morning exercise, Mikhalna. It’s on the schedule. (Calling out like a drill sergeant.) Formation! Move it, ladies! March in place! Left-right, left-right, left-right!

MIKHALNA.
Physical exercise? The only thing you’re exercising is the room’s ventilation. Open those windows before somebody passes out.

STEPANIDA.
Relax, Mikhalna. They confiscated our perfume months ago. (To the others.) Leg lifts! Up-down, up-down, up-down! Squats! Down-up, down-up, down-up! And… sit! The women collapse onto chairs, benches, and whatever furniture is available.

STEPANIDA. (CONT’D)
Now we need to discuss this performance.

KLARA.
I think it’s fantastic.

KATYA (pointed to KLARA).  
If anybody hands her a sword, I’m not stepping on that stage.

KLARA.
You’re an idiot.

KATYA.
Incorrect. I’m an Intellectual, highly functional alcoholic.

KLARA.
I stabbed that bastard because he nearly beat me to death.

KATYA.
And yet somehow that’s not reassuring.

NINA (confused).

Step on the stage?

KATYA.
No, Nina. Slip away. You know… For champagne or vodka.

(NINA suddenly begins to cry.)

STEPANIDA.
Oh, for God’s sake. (To Nina.) Who are you playing?

OLGA.
Mercutio.

STEPANIDA.
Wonderful. Then save the drama for the scene.

KLARA.
Leave her alone.

STEPANIDA.
I wasn’t talking to you. (To others) Listen, ladies. Here’s the reality. If we pull this off, the inspectors might leave the hospital alone. If we don’t, they’ll shut the place down. And then what?

TATA.
I don’t have anywhere else to go. This is my home.

(A beat.)

OLGA.
You may come to my planet.

KATYA.
Your planet is twelve feet down the corridor, first door past the bathrooms.

OLGA.
How dare you insult an intergalactic ruler!

KATYA.
Can we vote before World War Three starts?

STEPANIDA.
Fine. All in favor of doing the play? (Hands shoot up.)

STEPANIDA. (CONT’D)

Motion carried. We’re doing Shakespeare.

Scene Three

The Chief Doctor’s Office.

TAMARA enters carrying a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

TAMARA.
You’ve fallen in love.

ELENA.
What?

TAMARA.
Don’t play dumb. You’ve fallen in love.

ELENA.
No.

TAMARA.
That wasn’t a real no.

ELENA.
And how would you know?

TAMARA.
Twenty years in psychiatry. (She pours herself a drink.)

TAMARA. (CON’D.)
Who is he?

ELENA.
There is no “he”.

TAMARA.
Then it’s serious.

ELENA.
You’re impossible.

TAMARA.
Drink?

ELENA.
No.

(A Pause.)

TAMARA.
Now I’m worried.

ELENA.
Something strange is happening.

TAMARA.
To you?

ELENA.
To them.

(A Pause.)

ELENA. (CONT’D)
Katya started wearing makeup. Klara hugs people. Nina hasn’t been a tree for two weeks.

TAMARA.
A medical miracle.

ELENA.
I spent a year treating Nina. Nothing worked. Then rehearsals started. Now she talks like a person.

TAMARA.
Let’s write a paper and send to Journal of Psychiatry.

ELENA.
A paper? This is a doctorate!

TAMARA.
You write it. I hate paperwork.

ELENA.
And Stepanida…

TAMARA.
What about her?

ELENA.
Stable. No medication changes. No episodes. Nothing. She just… stabilized.

(A Pause.)

ELENA. (CONT’D)
After rehearsal they sit together for hours. They reading, memorizing lines helping each other. Do you understand what that means?

TAMARA.
It means the performance might actually happen.

ELENA.
No. It means something is happening that shouldn’t be possible.

(A Pause.)

TAMARA.
Maybe Shakespeare should’ve gone into psychiatry.

ELENA.
Maybe psychiatry should’ve gone into theater.

They laugh.

TAMARA.
You’re serious?

ELENA.
I am. If they close this place… I’ll stay with the girls. We’ll keep working. We’ll find a room somewhere. A basement. A garage. I don’t care. We’ll make theater.

TAMARA.
Officially, schizophrenia isn’t contagious.

ELENA.
It isn’t. Passion is. So is inspiration. And hope. Those spread fast.

TAMARA.
You sound insane.

ELENA.
It’s an Occupational hazard.

TAMARA.
Maybe I should admit you: Private room, Observation, a nice IV drip.

ELENA.
No thank you. Not today.

(A Pause.)

TAMARA.
The rumors are getting worse.

ELENA.
About the closure?

TAMARA.
About the criminal investigation.

ELENA.
Let them come.

TAMARA.
Easy for you to say.

ELENA.
You’re scared.

TAMARA.
Wouldn’t you be?

(A pause.)

ELENA.
Do you know what scares me?

TAMARA.
What?

ELENA.
That for the first time in years I actually look forward to tomorrow.

(A Pause.)

ELENA. (CONT’D)
I walk home after rehearsal and everything looks different: the trees, the rain, the puddles, the sky. It’s all exactly the same and somehow completely new.

TAMARA.
You are definitely in love.

ELENA.
Fine. Maybe I am. Just not with a man.

(A Pause.)

TAMARA.
With Shakespeare?

ELENA.
With the possibility.

They share a quiet laugh.

TAMARA.
If they shut us down, what happens to me? I spend the rest of my life walking my dog?

ELENA.
No. You’ll complain about walking your dog. There’s a difference.

TAMARA.
That’s your big plan?

ELENA.
My plan is this: tomorrow we open the curtain. Tomorrow those women walk onstage. Tomorrow the world sees them. After that we’ll figure everything else out.

(A Pause.)

TAMARA.
Pour me another one.

ELENA.
Now who’s in love?

Blackout.

Scene Four

Play within a play

The stage has been transformed into a makeshift Verona.

ELENA steps forward.

ELENA.
Honorable members of the commission, distinguished guests, today the “Cuckoo” Theater presents its adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. Wish us luck.

TAMARA.
And please silence your phones. The tragedy is loud enough already.

STEPANIDA (as CHORUS).
Two households, both alike in pride,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene.

From ancient hatred springs new violence

Until two lovers pay the final price.

KLARA.
Act One. Everybody hates everybody.

KATYA.
That’s basically the whole plot.

ELENA.
Follow the script!

KLARA.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

KATYA.
I bite my thumb, sir.

KLARA.
At us?

KATYA.
Not specifically.

KLARA.
Do you seek a quarrel?

KATYA.
I didn’t. But now I kind of do.

The fight explodes immediately. Swords. Shoving. Chaos.

STEPANIDA (as DUKE).
Enough! If you must kill each other, at least fill out the paperwork first!

(A Pause.)

Blackout shift.

NINA (as MERCUTIO).
Romeo! Where have you been?

OLGA (as ROMEO).
Suffering.

NINA.
Still over Rosaline?

OLGA.
Probably.

NINA.
Come to the Capulet’s ball. You’ll find somebody worse.

STEPANIDA.
Excellent advice. Disaster approaches.

Music.

The Capulet Ball.

OLGA sees KLARA.

OLGA.
Who is she?

NINA.
No idea.

OLGA.
She’s beautiful.

NINA.
Now you’re doomed.

OLGA approaches KLARA as JULIET.

OLGA.
If I profane this holy hand…

KLARA.
A handshake is enough.

OLGA.
Were lips not made for prayer?

KLARA.
And prayers should keep their distance.

OLGA.
But…

KLARA.
No.

OLGA.
But it’s in the script! (Laughter.)

TATA rushes in.

TATA.
Milady! Milady! Your mother is coming!

KLARA.
Perfect timing.

KATYA bursts forward as TYBALT

KATYA (as TYBALT).
That voice! Montague! Fetch my sword!

NINA.
Time to leave, Romeo. Unless you’d like your intestines worn as a necktie.

Lights shift.

The balcony scene

KLARA.
Romeo, Romeo, why are you Romeo? Change your name. Marry me. We’ll figure out the details later.

OLGA.
Done.

KLARA.
That was suspiciously easy.

OLGA.
I like efficiency.

KLARA.
Do you love me?

OLGA.
Yes.

KLARA.
That fast?

OLGA.
Very yes.

KLARA.
You frighten me.

OLGA.
I frighten myself.

They laugh.

For a moment the comedy softens.

Something real appears.

KLARA.
Good night, Romeo.

OLGA.
Good night.

TATA.
Your mother! Again!

KLARA.
She’s obsessed with timing.

Blackout.

STEPANIDA (as CHORUS).
They fall in love. They marry. Everything goes wrong. Welcome to Shakespeare.

Duel scene

OLGA.
Let’s go. Capulets are everywhere.

NINA.
You never understand anything.

(KATYA enters.)

KATYA.
Romeo! You’re a villain.

OLGA.
Tybalt, Tybalt, the reason that you hate me is understood. But I have reason to love you.

KATYA.
Love me? I’m straight!

NINA.
Will somebody fight already?

Steel flashes.

NINA falls.

NINA.
A plague on both your houses!

OLGA.
That line still doesn’t make sense.

KATYA.
Neither does this play.

OLGA.
Then let the swords decide.

Fight.

KATYA falls.

KATYA.
I do believe I’m dead.

STEPANIDA.
And now the tragedy becomes expensive.

Blackout.

KLARA.
Where is Romeo?

TATA.
Disaster. Death. Misery. General catastrophe.

KLARA.
Specifics?

TATA.
Romeo killed Tybalt.

KLARA.
Oh. That’s actually less bad than I expected.

STEPANIDA appears as DUKE.

STEPANIDA.
You’re married. Wonderful. Romeo is also a murderer. Less wonderful. I don’t know how Shakespeare handled it, but I don’t want a scandal. (A Pause.) Here’s what we’re gonna do. You get passports and visas to America, Israel, even Dubai. Officially, we’ll announce that you two… (gestures) …died of an overdose. We had the bodies cremated, so the younger generation won’t get any ideas. Now get up and roll out of here. I’ve got no time for you. Migrants have taken over the county. I’m buried in work. Well then… is that the end? Oh, no. Uh…

“Your reconciliation still lies shrouded in the gloom;
The sun won’t pierce the clouds and cast its gaze.
Come, let us speak together of these losses,
And judge you both—and pardon you as well.
For never was a tale of greater sorrow
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo”.

There. NOW it’s the ending!

Blackout.

Scene Five

Outside the hospital at closing time

The patients pace slowly, carrying cardboard boxes.

TAMARA.
See? It didn’t work out.

ELENA.
It didn’t work out? Did you hear them applauding us?

TAMARA.
The committee loved it. Those fools were begging to join the theater. But the decision had been made long before tonight.

ELENA.
You knew?

TAMARA.
I did.

ELENA.
And you never told me. Know what? Thank you. Otherwise, there would have been no rehearsals… no incredible performance, no other live. Can you imagine? We’ve become one big family. We go through everything together — laughing, crying and suddenly we realize that life feels lighter. Irony, drama, comedy — everyone finds their own kind of therapy onstage. It turns out theater heals. It heals the soul!

The patients begin to dance.
Lights slowly fade.

Blackout.

END OF PLAY

Leon Agulansky 2025