Mindgame (11 page)

FARQUHAR: (
Soothing
.) Alex…

PLIMPTON: No! I haven't spent twenty-nine years in clinical psychiatry to end up being treated as a bit-part player in the theatrical equivalent of a video nasty. And I'm growing increasingly concerned about the level of the violence.

FARQUHAR: There was no real violence.

PLIMPTON: It was implicit.

STYLER is being ignored, edged out. And it's as if he can feel himself slipping away…his sanity slipping from him
.

STYLER: No, no, no, no no!

PLIMPTON: Are you going to take him back to his room?

FARQUHAR: Alex, I think we need to have this out.

PLIMPTON sighs and picks up her telephone
.

PLIMPTON: (
Into the phone
.) Nurse Borson. Could you come up to my office please.

PLIMPTON puts down the telephone
.

FARQUHAR: Of course these sessions are exhausting. But you know as well as I do that we can achieve more in two hours of psychodrama than we can in two months or even two years of conventional therapy.

STYLER: (
Brightly, to PLIMPTON
.) Hi. I am Mark Styler.

PLIMPTON: So it's a question of means justifying the carpet.

FARQUHAR: I don't deny that.

STYLER: (
Looking up
.) What did you say?

PLIMPTON: Come on, Karel. I'm as great an admirer of Moreno as you are, you know that. But I think you can envelope his methods to extremes.

STYLER: Carpet. Envelope.

FARQUHAR: But for ten years he said nothing. He was nothing but wallpaper. And yet in the ten months since I started with him…

STYLER: It's a game.

PLIMPTON: Cigarette?

FARQUHAR: No, thank you.

PLIMPTON takes out a cigarette and lights it with a working lighter that is unattached to a chain
.

PLIMPTON: Jelly.

FARQUHAR: I wouldn't disagree.

PLIMPTON: With the carpet or the envelope?

FARQUHAR: Nor with the wallpaper.

STYLER: I am…!

PLIMPTON: Carpet. Envelope. And, of course, wallpaper.

FARQUHAR: Cigarette. Jelly.

PLIMPTON: Carpet. Envelope.

FARQUHAR: Wallpaper. Cigarette. Jelly.

PLIMPTON: Carpet.

STYLER has shrunk into a foetal position. He begins to rock back and forward, his hands pressed against his ears, his eyes closed, humming tunelessly to himself, trying to keep out the sight and the sound of the two people in the room
.

FARQUHAR: Wallpaper. Wallpaper. Cigarette. Jelly.

PLIMPTON: Carpet. Cigarette. Cigarette. Carpet.

FARQUHAR: Jelly. Carpet. Wallpaper. Cigarette. Envelope.

The words continue, spoken as if part of a completely rational conversation. STYLER rocks back and forth
.

The lights fade until he is left in a single spotlight
.

Blackout
.

The End
.

 

 

The Mercury Theatre production used calming music throughout the play – the same music used in the film, ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest'. The music could be heard occasionally (and arbitrarily) through a speaker in FARQUHAR's study. It was also used as an ironic counterpoint to the murder at the end of Act One
.

The play ended with FARQUHAR and PLIMPTON both leaving the room, talking (‘Envelope, carpet…') as they left. At the door, FARQUHAR paused and turned to STYLER
.

FARQUHAR: Envelope.

As FARQUHAR closed the door, there was an echoing crash – a metal cell door – and STYLER fell to his knees. There was an instant light change. STYLER was now imprisoned in a square block of light with bars running across. FARQUHAR and PLIMPTON could be heard walking away, their footsteps echoing on a metal floor
.

The ‘Cuckoo's Nest' music welled up. STYLER curled into a foetal position, humming vaguely to the tune
.

Blackout
.

 

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