Despite its issues, Britain’s answer to Vegas keeps bringing in tourists

From its roller coasters, amusement arcades and fortune tellers to bingo halls, ballroom waltzes and beach donkey rides, Blackpool has long had multi-generational appeal, so it’s fitting that there’s fun for all the family at Showtown.

A decade in the making, part of a $600 million regeneration project for Britain’s biggest coastal resort, this new “all-singing, all-dancing, all-weather” museum celebrates Blackpool’s zest for entertainment and the characters who graced stages here in its heyday, from home-grown talents like Tommy Cooper and Stan Laurel to international stars such as Frank Sinatra and Judy Garland – not to mention glove puppets like Orville the Duck and Sooty (a yellow bear bought by its handler, Harry Corbett, on one of Blackpool’s three piers in 1948).

As I roam Showtown’s immersive galleries that are split into themes like the seaside, circus, shows and magic, hazy memories stir from childhood outings to Blackpool with my Manchester-based relatives. I was a similar age to the giggling young people dashing about today, pressing, pulling and turning the museum’s interactive exhibits. While they honk the horn of a clown car, I spin a wheel that chatters a set of false teeth, a nod to Frank Randle, an early 20th-century comic who would throw fake gnashers into Blackpool audiences “for a laugh”.

Trailing behind, the kids’ parents and grandparents chuckle at bawdy postcards, bygone photographs and trademark props. There’s Laurel’s bowler hat, Cooper’s red fez and a ukulele plucked by George Formby, a jockey who became Britain’s most famous actor-musician between the world wars.

In the “How’s Tricks” gallery, I gravitate towards the door of a Blackpool police cell that Harry Houdini apparently escaped from. Beside it, a cabinet of items, including a straitjacket, honour another illusionist: Melbourne-born Norman Murray Walters. Touted as “The Sensational Australian Escapologist”, he arrived in England in the 1920s, quickly wowing crowds with his Houdini-esque antics. After retiring from the stage, Murray, as he was known, ran a magic shop in Blackpool until he was 85.

Showtown also casts a spell with its 15-metre-long digital screen, which fizzes with vintage footage, animations and audio clips charting Blackpool’s development: from humble Lancashire fishing village and bathing spot to bustling Victorian resort, a cherished summer escape for families from industrial towns in England and Scotland. Blackpool’s popularity waned in the 1960s and ’70s, when cheap package holidays seduced folk to sunnier Mediterranean climes. But despite long-term issues with under-investment, deprivation, unreliable weather and boozy stag (buck) and hen parties, the town has continued to lure Brits of all ages, from weekend breakers and festival-goers to attendees of political conferences and magic conventions.