Derek Malcolm: my predecessor was a mighty critic, film world darling and heir to a scandal | Peter Bradshaw

The droll former Guardian film writer was an old Etonian ex-jockey whose father killed his wife's lover, and who crossed swords with the Kray gang

Derek Malcolm was a brilliantly funny, convivial, professional film critic and memoirist, the last survivor of that great Guardian generation of arts journalism titans that also included Neville Cardus and WL Webb. Derek was simply a legend and an international treasure on the film festival circuit. He was the indefatigably globetrotting president of Fipresci, the international film critics' circle, and a passionate champion of Indian and south Asian cinema.

Well into his 80s, Derek wrote and broadcast about film - and cheerfully attended film festival parties - his latest television broadcasts being his witty and trenchant contributions to Sky Arts. His slight, wiry form was a familiar and much-loved sight at Cannes and Venice where he would appear, often with his wife, the historian Sarah Gristwood. He was as youthful as a very impish version of Peter Pan.