S-S-STAMMER MADE HIS CAREER.
He was well aware that his "silly ass" persona - the mellifluous, pretend-posh plummy voice, the s-s-s-tammer, pop eyes and cantilevered eyebrows - was his fortune.
He knew he was damned good at what he did, and that he was much loved for it.
The upper-crust air was entirely put on. He was born in a far from posh part of Liverpool.
But the stutter was real and he exploited it to brilliant effect playing bumbling clerics in All Gas And Gaiters, Oh Brother! and Oh Father!
He loved the actor-ish side of his profession and cut a flamboyant figure in his club the Garrick, in smart London restaurants and at showbusiness gatherings.
And played up to his blimpish image, taking a lead role in the campaign to keep women out of the Garrick. "The only excuse for joining the Garrick is to get away from women," he announced.
Wit, raconteur, lover of good food and wine and classic cars. Happily married, larger than life. A bit of a card, a gentleman.
You don't get many Derek Nimmos these days.
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|Publication:||The Mirror (London, England)|
|Date:||Feb 25, 1999|
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