When Branden Jacobs-Jenkins updated the late 15th century morality play, Everyman, he replaced the original title with Everybody. This change was a good one. A contemporary version needs a gender-neutral title. Jacobs-Jenkins could have called his play Everyone, but Everybody was a better choice because of its informality and its emphasis on the physical.

The clever adaptation for contemporary audiences received a fine production from Saint Louis University Theatre.

Both plays begin with an address to the audience. In Everyman, a messenger explains what the play is going to be about. In Everybody, an usher segues into a similar explanation after delivering the usual precurtain speech about silencing cell phones. The usher is, in fact, not just an usher but a character in the play. This is the first of many instances in which Everybody blurs the distinction between what is going in the theater and what is going on in the play.

The central character in both plays is an allegorical representative of all humanity. God summons this character to account for failing to live up to God’s expectations. In Everyman, God speaks directly to the audience. In Everybody, God speaks through the usher in an artificially distorted voice.

Death is the summoner in both plays, but the summoning is different. Death goes straight to Everyman in the original. In the adaptation, Death goes out into the audience and brings five Somebodies back to the stage. With the house lights still on, the Somebodies draw lots to determine which roles each one will play. “This is done,” the usher self-mockingly explains, “in an attempt to more closely thematize the randomness of death while also destabilizing your preconceived notions about identity, et cetera, et cetera, blah, blah, blah.”

The beliefs of the audiences account for much of the difference between the two plays. The author of Everyman could assume the original audience believed in salvation through good deeds and the sacraments. Fellowship, kindred, and goods abandon Everyman in the face of death. His good deeds, however, remain with him, and the sacraments prepare him for the end of his life.

Jacobs-Jenkins, in contrast, cannot assume his audience has a shared set of beliefs about death and the afterlife. Everybody does not provide definitive answers to end-of-life questions. It only raises awareness about them.

Under Alicia Revé Like’s astute direction, the excellent Saint Louis University cast seized on opportunities for humor in the script but shifted persuasively to a serious tone when required. The performers were highly attuned to the comedy in the script’s toying with its own theatricality.

Because the Somebodies’ roles were chosen in each night’s lottery, the program could not specify the exact roles of each performer. It would be contrary to the play’s intent for me to provide additional identification for the performance I saw.

The five Somebodies were Alexandria Butler, Bryce Palmer, Margaret London Kimble, Maasai Rodgers, and Jack Rimar. The roles they played were Everybody, Friendship, Kinship, Cousin, Stuff, Evil, Strength, Beauty, Senses, and Mind.

The other performers were Colleen Dundon as the usher, God, and Understanding; Sophie Smith as Death; Abigail Bottleson as a girl and Time; and Jake Allen Olson as Love. Mohemmed Al-Husseiny provided voiceovers.

Jim Burwinkel’s set design featured a raised central platform with a variety of functions. One of them was providing a place for Everybody’s burial. Most of Lou Bird’s costumes reflected the fact that the play is about people with whom the audience can identify. Allegorical characters representing aspects of the body were dressed as skeletons. Denisse Chavez’s lighting and Maddy Chatham’s sound enhanced the atmosphere with nice special effects.

—Gerry Kowarsky

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