We Are Everyman, Every Time

Of all the plays we read before coming to London, Everyman was the hardest for me to get through, simply because it was a very dry medieval morality play. It absolutely did not beat around the bush in addressing its audience:  we all die and our earthly treasures—wealth, beauty, even friends or family—will not be making the journey with us to face God. As nice as the moral was, I felt beaten over the head with it when reading. However, seeing Carol Ann Duffy’s modernized version, I was blown away. Though it had the same title and end result, the path to get there was almost unrecognizable. True to the title, however, Duffy produced a play in which the lead character was a modern Everyman. In this character, we each saw some of ourselves, whether it was abuse of substances, pursuit of “living the dream” in a high rise apartment with tons of friends, or maxing out our credit card at a department store that sounded suspiciously like Harrod’s. Changing the play so drastically—2015 is a long way from the medieval period—was a big risk, but it paid off.

Several times throughout the play, Duffy reminded us about the play’s ancient roots. By using the same formula of Everyman journeying to his friends, his family, and his worldly goods (symbolized by credit card companies and salespeople), we knew that Everyman was realizing step by step that he must face his final days alone. The whole production seemed very A Christmas Carol-ish, with Everyman suddenly being confronted with his failure as a son, friend, and lover. He is taken back to his childhood to face who he was as a kid, when his former self tells him saucily “I always say thanks,” though it is clear that the one thing Everyman lacks is gratitude for the time on Earth that he has been given. Adding to this, the huge spectacle of the play was amazing. At one point, the actors brought out a giant fan and blew handfuls of money out into the audience to represent the ridiculous surplus of money and the carelessness with which Everyman spent it. To top it off, loud music and flashing lights played on the LED screen behind the actors, making us feel as though we were front stage at a club in some rich part of London.

The language was an interesting concept in this play and represented the median between the medieval and the modern. Beginning with the song “Happy F***ing Birthday” clearly set the scene for one of rambunctious, 21^st century exploits. Even in the introduction delivered by the janitor who doubled as the God figure, the word condom was thrown out there, making it apparent from the beginning that this journey was one of excess in the modern world. Such vulgar language was shocking to hear, but was necessary and vital to characterizing both the time period and the environment.

On the other hand, there were times when the language reverted to a more lyrical, old-fashioned style. In the midst of the cursing and the shouting, certain lines would end with a rhyme. I thought this was a great touch, mixing everything into the melting pot of this play. Though Duffy set the stage in the modern, she used language to play with an almost Shakespearean, classically elegant delivery by the actors. This struck at the heart of what Duffy was showing us:  Everyman, though wrapped in a different package throughout the ages, really never changes. We as humans always chase the present, whether that’s the 11^th century or the 21^st. Everyman wastes the days that he has because his mind is not on the real, lasting things of the world, like building meaningful relationships with family or working to benefit someone other than himself. Whether he is dressed in a tunic carrying a walking stick or snorting cocaine in a business suit, Everyman always misses the point of life. Thanks to the language of this play, the audience realizes they should not follow in his footsteps. If every man watched Everyman, perhaps the world would be a better place. However, due to the fact that Duffy chose this of all plays to modernize, what does that tell us? Does the world ever really improve, or do we just keep running in the same, excessive circles throughout eternity?