Studying and teaching film at Warwick was like being part of a family, to which I still feel that I belong. Much of this was because of Victor: the atmosphere he helped to create, the values he helped to foster and the simple fact of his presence in the department. I loved running into Victor in the corridor or the photocopying room and talking with him about any number of topics. I remember, among many other subjects, discussing Frankie Howerd, temperance pledges and canned fish, the latter of which resulted in Victor handing me a tin of sardines with lemon the next time I saw him. On another occasion, Victor reflected, with mock-regret, that while he was grateful to have been clever, it might have been nice to have looked like Montgomery Clift instead. When I was a postgraduate student at Warwick, a conversation with Victor was often the highlight of my working day.
As a critic and teacher of film, Victor was peerless. For many of us who have been connected to Warwick over the years, he is the model we aim to emulate, the standard to which we aspire. We will remember Victor in this way, of course, but we will also remember his generosity, his humour and his company.