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Crocodile Dundee In LA

Thirteen years after he last visited New York, Aussie Mick "Crocodile" Dundee returns to American soil - this time to help girlfriend Sue Charleton investigate the corrupt dealings of a fledgling Hollywood movie studio.


Plenty of worries, mate. A third helping of this croc-out-of-the-Outback series is one too many. The difference between the delightful original and this plodding trek through Los Angeles is almost negligible. Once again, crocodile hunter Mick (Paul Hogan) puts his survival skills to the test while roaming the wilds of a major metropolis. The Big Apple jaunt resulted in Mick falling in love with journalist Sue (Linda Kozlowski). In Los Angeles, Mick grapples with making Sue an honest woman, thanks to the prodding of their young son Mikey (Serge Cockburn). La La Land provides enough distractions to prevent Mick from popping the question. Lavish parties. Acting gigs. Monkey wrangling. And the strange business practices of Silvergate Pictures. Sue returns to the United States to temporarily oversee her newspaper magnate father's Los Angeles bureau. Her first assignment: expose Silvergate and its likely criminal activities. But who needs a Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist with N.Y.P.D Blue junkie Mick Dundee on the case.


Sure, Crocodile Dundee in L.A. lacks bite, but Mick remains the life and soul of the hunt. The leathery Hogan - now 61, but leaner and fitter than a certain real-life crocodile hunter half his age - is so affable, fascinating and boyish that it's a pleasure to share his company. He's the same old Mick Dundee that audiences laughed at, but mostly laughed with, in the late 1980s. Hogan hints--though not very seriously--at the end of this adventure that it's time to call it quits. If so, he would be wise to pass his croc-skinned vest and hunting knife on to Cockburn. He's a chip off the old block. Whether he's rescuing skunks or trapping rodents, Cockburn manages to charm without being self-consciously cute or deliberately bratty. Too bad Kozlowski--Hogan's wife--has nothing better to do than lovingly raise her eyebrows at Mick's occasional blunders or pass herself off as a journalist.


Simon Wincer last worked with Hogan on 1994's Lightning Jack, a not-so-wild Western that floundered in its bid to put any distance between Hogan and his Crocodile Dundee persona. In Wincer's hands, Mick Dundee's latest urban jungle safari lacks any genuine surprises. Is Mick the only tourist to find himself confronted by a mugger each time he steps off the plane? In Australia, Mick may call the Outback his workplace, but he does seem to enjoy some modern amenities. So it's become something of a stretch to imagine that Mick doesn't watch TV and can't take a bath without fearing a crocodile attack. Much of the blame rests with the bland and trite cultural differences that writers Matthew Berry and Eric Abrams compel Mick to face continually. (Hogan contends that he deserves credit for writing the script, but unless he needs the extra cash, he should back down--it's nothing to be proud of.)

Bottom line

Dundee's the man to trade tall tales with over pints of Foster's. But it's time for him to hang up his knife and let Steve Irvin hunt those bloody crocs.