'We're having a problem with the undead' ... Two zombies from 28 Days Later rave at the camera. Photograph: Peter Mountain / AP
One person's damp squib can be another's firecracker. I had the opposite experience to Lyn Gardner of Anthony Neilson's zombie play The Big Lie at Latitude. This was one of my theatrical highlights of the summer. Did anyone else see it?
Unlike Lyn, I wasn't in the theatre tent, but sat (alongside many others) on the grass outside, peering in. I couldn't see the stage, but I could hear the radio-miked actors - and I could hear Neilson's own, always-amusing interjections as MC. I was delighted by the fact that, to begin with, the "play" was just two RSC actors deadpanning an EastEnders script from yesteryear (the one in which Den and Angie Watts separate). It struck me as a mischievous subversion of what people might expect of the RSC, or of theatre.
But not half as mischievous as what followed. I heard Neilson's announcement ("Ladies and gentlemen, keep calm. We're having a problem with the undead," etc) before I saw it: a zombie lurching out of the woods and towards the theatre tent. There were one or two screams, and then more people noticed, and soon the whole audience (at least, those of us outside the tent) watched agog as a security steward staved off the bloodied, slavering zombie with a flaming torch.
As more and more zombies staggered, mooing and blank-eyed out of the woods, the commotion was wondrous to behold. I had no idea what was happening on the stage inside, save that the EastEnders drama had collapsed, and Neilson was making ever more mordant pronouncements about the RSC's fortitude in the face of the undead foe.
But outside, it was hysterical. Some people were yelping in alarm. Others couldn't seem to believe what they were seeing. I saw one punter being chased by a howling cadaver, and several toddlers who were bloody terrified. And I'm not surprised: these were really convincing zombies. My friends, who aren't theatregoers, thought the whole event was a hoot - like finding oneself bang in the middle of 28 Days Later - and were talking about it for the rest of the festival.
At the time, I thought this was an event (unlike most plays I saw at Latitude) that was brilliantly tailored to its environment. It took account of the fact that there was a bigger audience outside than inside the theatre tent. Its subject matter - zombies - suited its location: amid innocent holidaying weekenders, surrounded by a wood, at nighttime. It wasn't made for a paying audience, so it didn't even try to offer value for money. It sounds like the show was frustrating to those seated ringside. It certainly would have been to anyone expecting anything resembling a play. But to punters outside, and to passers-by who stumbled upon it, it was an unforgettable experience.
With regard to Neilson's comments in Lyn's article, I'd say: mission accomplished. Here was the RSC presenting a show that provocatively blurred the boundaries between staged theatre and walkabout, spilling off the stage and (like Ross Noble) gatecrashing the festival outside. A show that had a gadfly spirit and a scuzzy disregard for theatrical proprieties. A wind-up, even. Fair enough, to those inside the tent who didn't get that angle on things, it probably failed. But from my perspective, Neilson's day of the living dead was the most alive theatre I've seen for ages.
