A nuanced, complex, character-driven piece with a truly engaging non-linear structure. David manages to both look at the immediate and collateral damage that mental illness can cause. Each of the characters' stories are peeled back like an onion as the play progresses, and each comes to a point where the audience understands and feels for them, even characters who seemed unsympathetic from the outset. The way small details--turns of phrase that Matt and Alan share, baggage they discuss, relationship details between Matt, Louise, and Sarabeth--reveal themselves feels organic all throughout.

Engaging with this play feels like an act of voyeurism—frequently dropping into scenes mid-conversation, relishing the incredibly natural dialogue, and trying to construct the truth of these characters. The fractured structure of the piece does a great job of putting the audience in the protagonist's disorganized headspace, forcing them to see as he sees. The depiction of mental illness is painful because it's so human and nuanced, which is a breath of fresh air - the pain here is well-earned. So much about this play is impossible, and artistic teams will relish bringing this agonizing, important story to life.

David Hilder's dialogue sparkles, his characters reliably witty and intelligent -- which only makes the fear and heartbreak sharper as these beautifully-drawn people grapple with dark forces assembling around and inside them. Hilder's time-hopping and structural sleight-of-hand mix a love story that breathes genuine intimacy, with a harrowing family drama of obligation and frustration, with a destabilizing existential nightmare that might spell the end of everything. A page-turner, and one that actors and directors will champ at the bit to dive into.