Hogan’s crocodile hunter has special humour

Press, 22 December 1986, Page 22

Hogan’s crocodile hunter has special humour

CROCODILE DUNDEE Directed by Peter Falman Screenplay by Paul Hogan and Ken Shadie I do not know whether this article is going to be a review of' “Crocodile Dundee” (Savoy) or a speculation on imagined differences between New Zealand and Australia. Paul Hogan is the Aussie version of the Kiwi’s Fred Dagg — neither of them is everybody’s cuppa-tea, but they are always good for a beer. Dagg may be straight out of Footrot Flats, while Hogan’s Crocodile Dundee comes from Walkabout Creek — the only dividing factor is the Tasman Sea. I am, therefore, a little puzzled about the conflicting reaction to “Crocodile Dundee.” The majority of people seem to thoroughly enjoy this film, and walk out of the theatre feeling good; then, there is the other element which finds it “pleasant entertainment” or “simple humour.” “Crocodile Dundee” is certainly more than those, and the humour is highly intelligent. If some people may feel offended for having the mickey taken out of them by a larrikin like Hogan, that is no loss to the film, which is doing very well at the box

office. Hogan, for almost a decade, has been a shortsized institution in Australia. In New Zealand, he may be remembered for his “Anyhow, have a Winfield” ad. Many Aussies identify with him, just as New Zealand has its “Footrot Flats,” Billy T. James and KZ7. After my short rave on the supposed attitudinal differences between two great countries, let me now just go on to say that “Crocodile Dundee” (like “Footrot Flats”) is one of the most enjoyable films I have seen this year. Hogan is the hero, a friendly crocodile hunter from the wilds of the Northern Territory. With his own, unique homespun philosophy and a great sense of humour, Dundee epitomises the Antipodean, Outback character. (“Time does not mean much up here,” Dundee says. “I asked a tribal elder once when I was born. He said, Tn the summertime’.”) This is no simple-minded statement. Dundee becomes national news when his leg is almost ripped off by a giant crocodile. Heroically, he drags himself through crocodile-infested waters for a week, and

survives to tell the crocodile’s tale.

Then there is the beautiful Sue (Linda Kozlowski), an adventurous reporter from New York, who picks up the story and tracks Dundee down. She travels with him on a re-enactment of his nowfamous adventure — a story which gets better every time it is told.

Dundee shows her an Outback and a lifestyle which is worlds apart from New York — or the east side of the South Island of New Zealand. Sue entices Dundee, who has never seen a crowd of more than 40 people in one spot, to accompany her back to New York. Once there, Dundee has the time of his life introducing himself to the natives, and leaving puzzled expressions and laughter in his wake.

Kozlowski, as Sue, is the freshest, most beautiful face to come to the silver screen since Robert Redford. Her beauty develops as the film goes along — and the film-makers certainly knew what they were doing. For first impression, she is just another dumb, Yankee blonde with too heavy an accent. But she grows on you, and you really feel for her when she is menaced by a crocodile in that delicious black bathing suit.

Sue’s costumes are stunning throughout, which does away with any

lingering suspicion that this is some kind of cheap film. Her couture, like that of the people at an art exhibition, is exceptional — like going to Ascot with My Fair Lady. Miss Kozlowski is not merely a serendipitous find. Although with little film experience, she travelled round the United States with Dustin Hoffman in his stage version of Arthur Miller’s “Death of a Salesman.” Hoffman recommended her for this part, and she is more than a pretty face.

Hogan’s humour is something else — but he gets away with it. He is the only man I know who can use the testicle test, twice in one film, to check the dubious sex of a person at a choice encounter of the innocent kind.

By anyone else, I would have considered it rude, crude and unkind. With Hogan, I thought it hilarious.

His ability to get away with jokes about personal foibles is what makes him such a great character. For .instance, his puzzlement about the bidet in his hotel suite could be dismissed as typical toilet humour, but it is exactly, almost motion-for-motion, what happened to me the first time I encountered one of those things. This is the funniest film in town. I do not think that this film has lost anything by travelling across the Tasman.