‘A giant among critics’: Derek Malcolm remembered by film-makers
‘He always looked as though he was up to mischief’Stephen Frears, director
He’d come up to you at solemn occasions with some wonderful, deflating phrase. With his wickedly impish face, he always looked as though he was up to mischief.
He wrote of My Beautiful Laundrette that it was “groundbreaking” and what he said changed my life and the lives of others. He was endlessly irreverent and yet absolutely committed to the best of cinema.
‘He let us all speak, then told us which film should win’Asif Kapadia,
director
Derek Malcolm was a legend of film criticism, his Guardian reviews played a huge part in my cinema education while I was a student. If Derek gave a French or Polish film a good review, I actively went out to see it, and the film was always amazing in some way or another. I trusted him and his taste.
This was back in the day of print newspapers, when film reviewers were rare, influential – they could make a difference. His reviews coincided with me realising my taste was different to that of the friends I grew up with in Hackney. I had to go to the cinema on my own, so I could escape and lose myself in “cinema”.
Malcolm’s Film of the Week mattered, it was something I looked forward to. In my memory it was rarely a US film or studio film he highlighted. His reviews introduced me to so many incredible international directors and the greatest of world cinema.
I was lucky to meet and be interviewed by Derek after I made my first film The Warrior, which had been shot on location in India. Derek loved India, Indian cinema and actors, which I remember surprised me at the time.
I met Derek over the years at film festivals and screenings. He was always friendly, happy to chat, ready to offer a cutting remark about someone or something he had just seen (including my own work). I was lucky enough to sit on juries where Derek was the jury president. It was a great privilege to be in the room as he let us all speak, and then told us which film he thought should win. He was one of the best. They definitely don’t make people or critics like Derek Malcolm any more.
Now, out of respect, in homage, I’ll make sure my kids and I work our way through Derek’s Century of Films list together.
‘Many beers and Silk Cut were consumed’Jeremy Thomas, producer
Derek has been an important voice of thoughtful film criticism for most of my film-making career – respected throughout the world and beloved at film festivals from Cannes to Cuba. I even accepted a poor review sometimes.I became firm friends with Derek and his wife, Sarah, in Bombay at the film festival. Derek loved cricket and horse racing nearly as much as he loved films. We talked long into the nights facing the Gateway to India. Many beers and Silk Cuts were consumed and I got to understand his passion for his favourite subjects.
‘He was such a legendary Guardian icon’Mike Downey, producer and chair of the European Film Academy
I was so sorry to hear of Derek’s death. He was such a legendary Guardian icon for so long. And I’ve known
him as long as I have been in the film business – from the early 1980s. If we hadn’t met for a long while, we always managed to pick up where we left off when we met again, be it Cannes, Venice, Berlin or Antalya, and it was usually to continue some appallingly filthy story of depravity acted out by the rank and feral of our industry, and inevitably my sides would be sore from laughing. Then we’d have a chat about Kurosawa.
‘He was steely eyed and he couldn’t be bought’ Stephen Woolley, producer and distributor
I can confidently speak on behalf of the thousands of exhibitors, distributors and film-makers (and his film critic colleagues) of my generation to say how through his tenure we were constantly touched and revitalised by Derek’s warmth, intellect and unadulterated love of cinema, and his irascible sense of justice and humour.
He held great sway as the film critic of the Guardian at a time when the internet and social media fragmentation of critical consensus didn’t exist. You had to deduce from his erudite prose what he really thought.
At Palace Pictures we knew that the laconic Derek wasn’t swayed by younger film-makers or new trends. He was steelyeyed and he couldn’t be bought, but conversely he didn’t enjoy lambasting movies.
So while he occasionally balanced on the fence his feet were firmly on the ground when reviewing his beloved Satyajit Ray or Robert Bresson. We metaphorically hugged him to our hearts, and closely sought out his company – because he cherished cinema, but he also worried about how exhibitors and distributors might survive in a UK industry in the 70s, an era dominated by dwindling attendances and bingo mania.
Derek was a giant among critics and he wielded his undoubted power with the same delicacy and sense of justice that he admired in the great filmmakers – and he never swayed from his responsibility to protect cinema as an art form.
Thank you, Derek. We will never forget your twinkling eyes and words of constant support, and affectionate but self-deprecating barbed humour. The films you shone your spotlight on gave us the inspiration, but without you the lights would have been very dim – as they are with your passing.