The Market Deeping Model Railway Club review – the absurdities of British life in miniature
William Ivory's comedy, inspired by a 2019 vandalism incident, explores British identity and the Brexit era through the lens of a model railway club's quiet dedication and quirky obsession.
Before the play begins, a tiny LNER InterCity train zips across the stage, drawing our eyes and reminding us of the fascination with miniatures. When we meet the old boys of the Market Deeping model railway club, celebrating a second victory in Stamford's regional exhibition, we sympathize with their niche hobby. It may seem eccentric to spend years perfecting an OO scale motive power depot, but the detail is breathtaking.
William Ivory's comedy was inspired by a traumatic incident in 2019, when four youths broke into the school hall at Welland Academy to find a model railway exhibition and trashed it for a laugh. Combining the camaraderie of Calendar Girls with the dodderiness of Dad's Army, the playwright doesn't hide the men's nerdy obsession but establishes their quiet dedication in a way that shows the life-shattering impact of the vandalism. To add gravitas, Ivory sets the story in the context of Brexit, with Theresa May resigning and Boris Johnson promising to take back control. Where should these enthusiasts, whose motto is “Pullmans not politics”, draw the line between nostalgia for steam engines and suspicion of foreigners? If building a replica railway feels peculiarly British—a quirky throwback to a Boy's Own past—what chance of ushering in modernity to this Lincolnshire market town?
Though the argument may be too weighty for this gentle tale, the excellent cast never makes it seem so. Under Adam Penford's direction, the seven men, plus Lucy Briers as the put-upon club secretary and catalyst for emotional articulacy, paint an endearing portrait of people bonding through a shared passion. All veteran performers, they know how to land a joke—whether it's Adrian Scarborough as the chairman clinging to the rulebook, Paul Bradley as the old-timer mixing up his meds, or Babatunde Aléshé as the newbie who faces blank stares when explaining they've gone viral on socials.
The undulations are minor, but the play is an N gauge pleasure.
