UNDERRATED / The case for Fred Dineage

Jim White
Wednesday 15 December 1993 00:02 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

One of the pleasures of growing up in the Seventies was the Q & A children's television programme How? There were four presenters; Bunty, Jack and the one who showed you how science worked. And there was the puppyish one, the eager butt of everyone's jokes, the one who, if there was a demonstration involving electricity, was always handed the loose wire. He was the one who made learning a giggle; the Stuart Hall of children's TV. Inevitably his name was Fred.

Twenty years on, revived by executives living out their childhood, the programme returned as How 2? Bunty, Jack and the other one had gone, replaced by Gareth with an earring and Carole who knows about adding up. But Fred Dineage is still there, just as enthusiastic, calm, slick and accomplished. These days the hair is less likely to stand on end during electrical experiments, slicked over his dome as it now is. But he still has an ability to deliver pointless information as if it might be eligible for a Nobel prize. This week: how to make birds' nest soup without the soup and without the birds' nest. It was as Fred's unshaking hands moulded a bed of cold spaghetti that clues of his other life became visible. That chunky gold bracelet watch, that perma-tan, the diamond-encrusted pinkie ring: evidence that in his spare time Fred does the business.

For 15 years he has been chief PR man for the Kray twins, ghosting books like My Story by Ron, the sequel to Our Story by Ron and Reggie. My Story is the comic masterpiece of the year. In it Dineage attempts the most audacious How? of his career: how to rehabilitate two murdering gangsters as charitable, fun-loving rogues who community-policed the old East End. And judging by the way opinion has changed in favour of releasing the twins - actors on the streets demonstrating, sympathetic pictures of Reggie in the tabloids - he's succeeding. Now that really makes your hair stand on end.

(Photograph omitted)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in