THE crowd gasps. Arched backwards in a dramatic display, a woman has just breathed fire across the audience.
She continues dancing, swinging flaming sticks against the inky night while a flatcap-wearing crowd looks on, transfixed.
I’ve arrived at Black Country Living Museum in Dudley, near Birmingham, which was crowned the best large visitor attraction in England last year.
There for a special Peaky Blinders night, I enter a replica village featuring streets any fan will recognise – as this is a filming location for the hit series.
The show’s creator, Steven Knight, has gone as far as describing the museum as “home”.
The event costs £21 and instructions are enticingly vague: “Arrive in 1920s attire and expect mayhem.”
Judging by the fire dancers at the entrance, I’m in for one hell of a night.
Wobbling across the cobbles in heels, I’m wrapped warmly in a thick trenchcoat. If someone had told me I’d accidentally wandered back in time to the actual 1920s, I could have believed them.
Visitors drift between functional stores, from a post office to a barber shop, where one teen exchanged £15 for a Shelby-inspired undercut while their girlfriend laughed from the sidelines.
At the bottom, past a WWI memorial, sits a ruckus of flashing gold fairground rides.
It is so authentic, the only indication that I’m standing on a film set and not a real street corner is the vintage signage and outfits.
I’m jolted to attention by a 1920s car rumbling towards me, open-topped and overflowing with cackling passengers.
“I swear that was Ada,” someone remarks, in a nod to Arthur Shelby’s daughter in the show.
In dim lighting, strangers do have a habit of morphing into familiar faces.
Down a flight of steps sits Canal Street Bridge, a secret meeting place for Ada and Freddie. From there, I can see queues forming for the village pubs, as jaunty piano tunes drift from their doorways.
Having snagged a £4.50 bottle of Cobra, my attention is drawn towards two storefronts: a bakery and a traditional sweet shop. For £10, I secure a bag of lemon sherbets, lemon bonbons and cinder toffee.
Clutching my treats, I teeter down the steps of Canal Street Bridge to enter Charlie’s Yard. This sits on the banks of a canal, where Charlie Strong smuggles illicit goods for the Shelbys.
“Welcome to 1910,” a chainmaker yells, wielding a hammer over a glowing link.
This event is strictly 16+ , and judging by the three street brawls I’ve witnessed already, that’s probably for the best. All incidents involved actors and the colourful language sparked waves of giggles.
My final hurrah is horse racing at St James’ School.
Shuttled into wooden rows, the atmosphere is electric and, after picking their horses, everybody is on the edge of their seats.
Celebrating the flutter with a portion of fish and chips “to go”, it’s time for the steady walk to the exit. By 10.30pm, it feels like I’ve just scratched the surface.
Straddling 29 acres, the site has events exploding on a spitfire schedule. Catching it all seems impossible.
Ticket included, I’ve spent around £50, so this evening has been a steal.
Like Cillian Murphy, I’m leaving with a “great fondness” for the Black Country Living Museum.
The Shelby legacy is alive and well.