by Anthony O'Connor
Worth: Discs: 2 The Film: 3.5/5 The Extras: 4/5 Overall: 7.5/10
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Cast:
Paul Hogan, Linda Kozlowski, John Meillon, David Gulpilil
Intro:
Paired with the deeply biased but engaging Love of an Icon, this handsome 4K package will be perfect for those who are immune to the cultural cringe or just want to find out what is and is not, in fact, a knife.
The Film
Like Con the Fruiterer, The Gobbledok and Kingswood Country, some Australian cultural artifacts of the 1980s are difficult to explain to the younger generations or those not born in this wide brown land. The big one, however, the one that had the largest impact on the entertainment industry would definitely be 1986’s Crocodile Dundee. It’s hard to put into words just how massive this thing was, leveraging the popularity of TV comedian Paul Hogan with the emerging sense of Australia’s national identity and somehow becoming a gargantuan hit the world over. How big was it? Adjusted for inflation, this funny little fish-out-of-water comedy raked in billions. It’s still the highest grossing Aussie film of all time to this day! So, how has it aged nearly 40 years later? Better than you might think, with some caveats.
Crocodile Dundee tells the story of one Michael J. “Crocodile” Dundee (Paul Hogan) who has managed to attract the attention of American journalist Sue Charlton (Linda Kozlowski), who wants to write a piece on the croc attack survivor and local larrikin. At first, she’s bemused by this drunken, sweary lout, but as time goes on, she becomes oddly attracted to the vulgarian with the heart of gold. But will their bond remain strong when she takes him back to America?
What’s most striking about Crocodile Dundee after all these years is how slight the whole thing is. Coming in at a slender 104 minutes, there’s barely any plot to speak of, rather a few (often charming) connected vignettes that highlight the absurdity of Aussie culture, American culture or the juxtaposition of the two. The iconic “that’s not a knife, that’s a knife” scene remains a crowd-pleasing bit of business and the cinematography in the first half particularly, is genuinely gorgeous. Not all the jokes have aged particularly well, mind you. The ‘80s was a whole other country in terms of social mores and Mick does come off as a bully every now and then. This being the Encore Cut, Dundee’s two most glaring offenses – grabbing and groping not one but two cross dressers in two separate scenes (!) – have been omitted. Your humble word janitor is in two minds about this. On the one hand, censoring scenes that seem unpleasant by modern standards always feels a bit Orwellian and rife with the risk of ignoring historical context. On the other hand, both these scenes felt deeply dodgy even in the 1980s and their removal has zero impact on the rest of the film. Still, a warning at the start of the piece that says something like “we’re sorry about some of these jokes, cocaine was super cheap back then” or the option to choose between both versions seems a more elegant solution than outright deletion.
As a work of light entertainment, Crocodile Dundee remains a success. For those of us who grew up with the film, there’s a feeling of coming home and finding that the place is smaller than we remember. It’s hard to imagine what newbies will make of it, but it’s nice to have the old girl available to take a squiz when the urge arises.
The Extras
Rather than showcase a raft of tiddlers, Crocodile Dundee’s extras are mainly about the chunky offering of feature-length documentary, Love of an Icon: The Legend of Crocodile Dundee. This 87-minute feature acts as tribute to the movie, sadly departed producer John Cornell (the brains behind the movie and much of Paul Hogan’s success in general) and Cornell’s widow, actress Delvene Delaney. While it very often slips into hagiography, it’s also a fascinating snapshot of a particular time in Australian history when we stepped onto the world stage and found an audience. There’s always something so satisfying about watching the story of a project that no one believed in (even Kerry Packer pulled his dosh out before the shoot commenced!) absolutely crush it at the box office, proving the naysayers to be a bunch of chicken-hearted wankers.
It’s a pity that the doco glosses over the film’s two sequels (one of which did okay, one of which… did not) and its lasting cultural impact, but there’s an undeniable appeal in drinking in the triumph of an underdog.
Other than a few scattered doco extras, nothing else is on hand. It would have been nice to get an audio commentary from Hogan and director Peter Faiman but sadly no such thing exists. It should be noted that the very handsome Collector’s Edition features a faux crocodile skin box, 54-page booklet and art cards, for those with the dosh to spend.
Verdict
Love it or hate it, Crocodile Dundee made a massive cultural impact on the world and – it bears repeating – remains the most successful Australian movie of all time. Revisiting it is an odd experience as it feels like an almost plotless, if amiable, drive through the back paddock of dusty Aussie cliches in a rusty old paddy basher.
Unlikely to win a legion of new fans, this is one for those of us who can remember when Paul Hogan became an unlikely international celebrity, and everyone assumed we were a country of bronzed larrikins who could fight off muggers and make buffalo go to sleep with a hand gesture and a growl. Paired with the deeply biased but engaging Love of an Icon, this handsome 4K package will be perfect for those who are immune to the cultural cringe or just want to find out what is and is not, in fact, a knife.
