It would be laughably childish, this stuff, if it weren't so damn dangerous. One minute it's, "Oi - whatchoo lookin' at, pal?"; next minute, you've been shot in the eye. Charles, aka Charlie, Kray portrays himself as a good-natured spiv and his brothers as misunderstood heroes ("Once Ronnie pawned a gold ring for a couple of quid to help a kid out") in this ludicrous piece of revisionism. Once you accept the essential unreliability of the narrator, however, there's an undeniable fascination in the litany of crimes, funerals and court cases. And the pictures; the Krays with showbiz stars, the Krays with snooker stars, the Krays with Sonny Liston and Rocky Marciano. Cor, Charlie, you're a card.
A.W.