There aren’t many of us who can say we have always adored every moment of our jobs, with the experience of being stuck in some dead-end career seemingly being a universal experience that we all encounter from time to time. Some of us are lucky enough to escape it, while others find themselves trapped within it – Miles Kendig, uses this frustration as a means to get revenge on his employers, who just so happen to be the CIA, one of the most powerful entities in existence. These are the formative ideas we find at the heart of Hopscotch, in which director Ronald Neame collaborates with a tremendously gifted cast and crew to bring the novel by Brian Garfield to life, which is regularly considered one of the more fascinating comedies of the 1980s, a decade in which the genre was becoming more experimental than ever before, likely as a result of a new wave of comedic minds finally being given the chance to have their humour put on screen. Neame, who was one of the most brilliantly versatile directors of his generation, albeit one that rarely was given the credit he deserves, is extremely dedicated to the premise of this outrageous film, somehow turning a sprawling, over-the-top spy thriller into one of the most engaging, genre-bending experiments of this era, which is especially impressive considering there is certainly a version of this story that is far less interesting, and much more dramatic, which seems wildly inappropriate, even if the original novel on which this film is based was decidedly darker in tone and intention. Hopscotch is a nearly perfect film on both a conceptual and visual level, one that is simultaneously as lovable and roguish as its protagonist, and one that is equally ripe for the continued re-assessment that it has been undergoing for a few years, which has repositioned this film as one of the landmark comedies of that decade, and one that continues to have quite an impact on contemporary films, many of which aim to recapture the revolutionary spirit of this delightful and irreverent experiment.

Every conversation about Hopscotch will inevitably at some point veer towards discussing the way this film approaches the genre, which is perhaps its defining quality. As we mentioned, the original novel (while still tinged with comedy) was more dramatic, and the intention was to make this a more conventional spy thriller, one that is laced with romance and intrigue, and where the comedy was more of an undercurrent emerging in key moments, rather than the main propellant of the story. Looking back, it’s bizarre to imagine how this film could have been anything less than a thorough comedy, since not only are the scenarios wonderfully ridiculous, but there’s a sense of mischief that can only be realized through humour, which proves how the risk to turn this into a wacky comedy was a smart decision, and one that has allowed the film to maintain a solid place in the contemporary culture. Neame was a terrific journeyman director, and his penchant for adapting his style to any material was one of the reasons his work is so consistently praised, even by those who don’t tend to acknowledge his authorial voice. Throughout Hopscotch, we find a film that seamlessly blends many different genres, using a combination of comedy, spy thriller and romantic melodrama to capture the spirit of the original novel and its often broad ideas. However, despite its lighter tone, this film is not without depth, and it’s often in the quieter moments that we can see just how profoundly brilliant this film is, as well as its ability to develop many of its more abstract ideas. Hopscotch is a subversive commentary on society, as seen through the perspective of a grizzled veteran who has realized that patriotism is a misleading concept, used by governments to embolden the borders between countries and strengthen their sense of national pride, in the hopes of emphasizing themselves as the most unique, powerful and important culture in a world driven by the idea of dominance. These are the ideas embedded at the heart of this film, which is far more complex than it seems at first glance.

Considering he played a pivotal role in Charade, which is perhaps the definitive entry into this sub-genre of the globetrotting spy comedy, it seems like a wonderful form of homecoming for Walter Matthau to be allowed to star in his version of this story, this time in the part of the dashing lead, rather than the maniacal villain, which he had previously mastered across from Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn, but which he had not been given the chance to do on his own until this point. There is very little doubt that Matthau was a brilliant actor, but at this point in his career, he had mostly been playing curmudgeon and otherwise grouchy characters, which changed with Hopscotch, in which he was able to lean into the effortless charisma he demonstrated earlier in his career. He possessed an incredible screen presence, and while he was at his peak during a time when leading characters and heroes were not modelled after him (which is why he is arguably the greatest character actor of his generation), he did have the skill to command the screen with incredible dedication and a lot of pathos, which was a rare commodity in an industry in which appearance was seen as a marketable aspect of an actor’s career. Charming and hilarious, his work in Hopscotch is some of his best, and the film makes sure to tailor itself to Matthau’s sensibilities, drawing on his almost crumpled, everyman demeanour in their construction of this hilarious character. He is joined by a strong supporting cast, which includes a reunion with his former co-star Glenda Jackson, as well as the always reliable Ned Beatty as the film’s villain, a bureaucrat who faces the consequences of simply doing his job, one of the many peculiar aspects that makes this film so endearing. Sam Waterson is also a scene-stealer as a character that exists at the perfect intersection between Matthau’s counterculture revolutionary and Beatty’s strait-laced CIA director, and the film could have benefitted from using him as more than just comedic relief, especially since he had the potential to be just as intriguing as Matthau, which only serves to prove the strength of his performance.

Everything that makes Hopscotch so special can be found when we look at how Neame executes the story, much more than just focusing on the very strong performances, which are at the heart of the film, but not the only root of its success. As a director who could work in just about every genre, Neame had the opportunity to do whatever he felt was most appropriate with this material, seemingly being given relatively free reign to take it in the direction that he deemed as having the most potential to be as bitingly funny and hilariously irreverent as it intended to be, based on the idea of leaning into the comedy. However, just because it is defined by humour does not mean that it lacks nuance, and Hopscotch is as well-made and exciting as any of the more serious espionage thrillers to which it is paying tribute, which is perhaps the best kind of homage since it indicates a profound understanding of the mechanics behind a specific genre. There are very few moments in this film that are anything less than funny, fast-paced and extremely exciting, and the genuine sense of danger and intrigue present at the heart of this story is precisely what elevates it and makes it so incredibly unique. In both the small details and broad strokes, certain aspects of this story are quite effective – the use of locations that are not all that obvious for this kind of story situates it just outside conventions (and gives exposure to other places, rather than the traditional ones that are usually associated with Cold War thrillers), but still contributes that feeling of jet-setting intrigue. This is coupled with the perfect blend of slapstick humour and wonderfully precise stunt work, the two intermingling quite beautifully, being imperfect in extremely effective ways. Ultimately, what makes Hopscotch work so much is how these very traditional elements work to complement the story and its ideas, rather than defining them. That’s a very important quality that this film does remarkably well, and what makes this such an absolute delight, one that is somehow better than the films that it honours.

A very reliable film that has made bespoke qualities and unforgettable quirks, Hopscotch seems to only be getting better with age, which is quite appropriate considering how one of the landmark scenes in this film entails a well-written discussion on wine and its tendency to become better the longer one waits to consume it, which is a perfect description of this film. Many merits push this film forward, and whether we want to focus on the unique style of humour, which is both complex and easily comprehended, or the deeper meaning that drives the story, there is a clear value that keeps this film afloat and interesting, which is not an easy achievement, especially for a comedy of this nature. I particularly appreciate how this film combines Cold War paranoia with humour – while this period was filled with war and turmoil, there was something truly absurd about the competitive nature of these countries, which is often not explored in any detail in more serious works. The events depicted are not at all funny, but this film instead highlights the inherent peculiarities of not only this specific period but the concept of war and espionage as a whole, which it carefully deconstructs to create this striking and brilliantly offbeat comedy. One can only imagine the impact this story would have made had it has been produced two decades earlier when the world stood on the threshold of nuclear war, which was driven by the same concepts that this film is so adamant in critiquing – and once we look at this film as a deep examination of socio-political corruption during the Cold War, enrobed in a hilarious comedy, the sooner we realize the true scope of its brilliance. Hopscotch is a terrific film, anchored by one of Matthau’s most effortlessly funny performances, and directed with precision by one of the great filmmakers of his generation. It may seem slight in theory, but there’s a burgeoning complexity that keeps this film afloat, and there are many moments of incredible tension that supplement the irreverent humour, all of it working so beautifully in the overall construction of this terrific and truly engrossing dark comedy that knows exactly how to handle some of the more challenging aspects of the era in which it is taking place, much more than several serious works on the same subject.