There's a way to look at this episode as kind of a miracle. Something so singular that it couldn't happen on any other TV show -- even though, yes, obviously, dozens of shows have done musical-type stuff before. But Grey's is kind of in a glass case, both ratings-wise and esteem-wise. The people who are watching it will keep watching it; they'll stick with the show through a stylistic experiment, even one that involves Chyler Leigh speak-singing and Cristina and Hunt sing-sexing. But more important than that is the fact that Grey's lost all of its standing as a Very Important TV Show. That'll happen when your show is so decidedly about lady doctors and their feelings -- so inferior to subjects like manly bootleggers or boxers or meth dealers. To be fair, that'll also happen when your lady doctors start having sex with the ghosts of former boyfriends. But the point is: nobody respects this show anymore anyway -- why NOT to a weirdo jukebox musical centered around a doctor who's so badly injured that she's hallucinating herself?
So previously: Callie and Arizona were driving out to a cabin getaway weekend, arguing about Mark as per usual, when Arizona decided to ask Callie to marry her. And that's when the car crash happened.
We open with the airbag deploying and smacking Arizona in the face. She's got a nasty gash on her forehead and her face is full of scrapes, but she's the lucky one. Because we pan over to the passenger seat to find only broken glass. Callie's legs are still partially inside the car, on the dash. The rest of her is pitched out onto the hood, she having previously taken off her seat belt to dig around for the phone when Mark called. Arizona starts screaming her name and gets out of the car, while we see Callie's bloody face, twitching and hyperventilating. Callie's voice-over, sensibly taking over for Meredith this week, starts talking about the brain, and what a funny little organ it is. How it controls what we see, what we hear, how we process what the world is handing us. Right now, Callie is processing by seeing a vision of herself -- healthy, uninjured -- standing by the side of the road. As Arizona screams for help and calls emergency, CallieVO tells us that when the brain is traumatized, shit can get weird. And that's basically all the explanation we need for the singing that's about to happen. Starting with Callie (trust that whenever I talk about Callie singing, it's the Callie apparition I'm talking about), who kicks things off inauspiciously, staring at her own broken body with a puzzled expression and croaking out, "Nobody knows where we might end up..." It's cute, but please don't make me think of the old opening credits of this show.