Individually, they were two of the greatest actors in the history of English-language cinema, but together they made pure magic. Over the course of their careers, Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau established a legacy that continues to be the gold standard for film acting, with their numerous collaborations over the years yielding absolutely magnificent results. Everyone has a different choice for which film best encapsulates a lifelong personal and professional friendship, with every one of them being worthwhile endeavours that made them amongst the finest acting duos in film history. However, one of their more interesting collaborations came in a slightly different form, when Lemmon stepped behind the camera and directed his friend in Kotch, an adaptation of the seriocomic novel of the same title by Katharine Topkins, which tells the story of Joseph “Kotch” Kotcher, a rambunctious retiree who may be old physically, but remains young at heart, so much that he becomes something of a burden to his family, who yearn for an ordinary grandfather for their infant son, rather than the overly playful old man who seems more interested in having fun than taking any real responsibility. Kotch isn’t the best example of either of the two central figure’s work, but functioning as a fascinating experiment in both Lemmon’s attempt to direct (his first and only credit as a filmmaker), and for Matthau venturing into the territory of more character-based work, occurring at the beginning of a period where he took on some very interesting parts that proved his gifts as one of the most reliable actors working at the time. It may work best when viewed by someone who is already an adherent to Lemmon and Matthau’s partnership (as it isn’t the peak for either man), but even without their reputation, it’s difficult to not be absolutely charmed by this delightful little comedy.

Kotch isn’t something that seems all that complex in theory – it is essentially just the story of a cross-generational friendship between an elderly man and a young pregnant woman, who are drawn together by circumstance and find a kindred spirit in one another, despite initially starting as adversaries. Over the years, we’ve seen countless similar stories – simple tales of odd-couple friendships that develop over the course of a small amount of time, where two wildly different individuals find themselves depending on another, despite their vast deviances in terms of how they live their life. It’s almost a complementary piece to Lemmon and Matthau’s The Odd Couple, obviously just being a more sentimental story borne less from deriving humour from their differences, and more focusing on the emotional stakes that come when these people are put together in close proximity and find out they’re more similar than they would’ve originally imagined. Lemmon very smartly chooses something a lot more simple for his directorial debut – he doesn’t try for an ambitious project that would pull him out of his depths as a first-time director, and even though he may not have taken on the role of director ever again, he did demonstrate a very strong sensibility for interpreting this material. It’s a simple story, and one where much of the work was already done for him as a result of the source material (since this was a character-driven film that depended less on visual panache, and more on Lemmon’s ability to direct his actors well), but the observations gained from a few decades of being one of the most humanistic actors at the time serviced him very well, especially in how he captured the spirit of the story, which can only come from the keen insights garnered from being a working actor that made a career from getting into the minds of a wide range of characters.

Like Lemmon, Matthau used his wealth of previous experience in the industry to take on the titular character of Mr Kotcher. This was a challenging role to play – he needed to play someone who was very clearly heading towards the last chapter of his life, but still holding onto the last remnants of youth that he realizes is beyond fleeting. Matthau was perhaps slightly young to be playing the role (they do their best to make him appear as a man well into his twilight years), but this deliberate choice came about as a way of allowing him to bring a physicality to the role that a more age-appropriate actor may have not achieved – it’s one of the rare cases of an actor being aged far beyond their years actually yielding positive results. This isn’t Matthau’s best performance (how one can possibly decide on what that would be is bewildering and nearly impossible, considering the depth of his talents), but it is one of his most captivating, and encapsulates everything audiences appreciated about the actor – his unique sensibilities in making character decisions, his ability to make someone relatively unlikable come across as nothing but endearing and, most importantly, his undying commitment to playing roles that touch on a particular side of the human condition. It’s a masterful portrayal by an actor who knew how to elevate any role beyond simply being a mere archetype – and even at its most straightforward, his performance as Kotch is something special, each moment being enthralling and meaningful, and beautifully-calibrated far beyond the confines of what we’d expect from someone tasked with playing an idiosyncratic young man. Kotch is entirely Matthau’s film, so none of the other performances truly register, which is perfectly understandable considering how much of this story was designed to be a vehicle for an actor who could bring even the most abstract characters to life.

What makes Kotch so wonderful is how it occurs at the perfect intersection between irreverent comedy and profound, character-driven drama. This isn’t as easy a combination to pull off as many would think, and Lemmon proves a remarkable aptitude at assimilating both sides of the story into the film, finding the right balance between the tonal shifts that help make the film so enduring. It’s hilarious when it needs to be (mainly because Matthau understands exactly when to play to the rafters, and when to be more introspective), but doesn’t neglect the emotional weight of the story, which is essentially what drives this film forward and makes it such a carefully-measured piece of storytelling. This aids in unearthing the deeper themes that persist throughout – as much as we’d imagine Kotch is about an eccentric old man undergoing some peculiar adventures as a result of his own quirky nature, this is really a film about friendship and defying the odds that come with an unconventional pairing, especially when it’s between two deeply lonely people. The story may meander – it never really has any tension, and is almost entirely a series of episodic moments in the life of the main character as he encounters new challenges on his voyage of self-discovery – but it means a lot when we see how Matthau and Lemmon are deconstructing it beyond simply being a mindless comedy. We’ve seen so many instances of films relying on the reputation of its stars to propel itself forward, so to find something that seems to genuinely care about the story as much as it does the person interpreting it, means this is immediately a special piece of filmmaking. There’s a heart to Kotch that we find dominates from the first moment – a gentle melancholy punctuated by a healthy dose of comedy that helps balance it all out, allowing the emotional underpinnings to gradually work their way to the surface.

For some viewers, Kotch may be unbearable – it often comes across as having a sickly-sweet sheen, and is filled with moments of sentimentality that could be repulsive to those who aren’t particularly interested in these melancholy tales of ageing. However, for those who are willing to embrace the fact that this is a film with some degree of overwrought emotion, and a sense of overly tender familiarity, it can be quite a lovable little film. Lemmon may not have been the finest visual stylist (and often seems to be veering towards social realism in how he uses muted colours and unstylish locations to represent the lives of these characters), but he was an artist with a lot of heart, which was keenly reflected here in his directorial debut. It’s a wonderful collaboration between the director and one of his closest friends, who turns in a solid performance that proves how he could extract so much laughter and sadness in equal measure from the most unexpected sources. There isn’t much of a plot, and it can frequently jump from one point to another without much logic, but Kotch is a wonderful film about friendship, ageing and fatherhood that feels like it comes from a genuinely good place, one that is brimming with life, and a thorough compassion, reflected in its poignant exploration of the human condition. It’s a major work, and an absolutely staggering comedy about grave matters that never takes itself all that seriously, and instead just embraces the unpredictable nature of life in all its glory.