Crocodile Dundee In Los Angeles

Following the enormous success of the two previous 1980s blockbusters - which had a combined international gross of about $600m - Crocodile Dundee 3 could well do big family business everywhere. But 13 years on, it's unlikely that this one, although heavily pre-sold on recognition factor before going into production, will do anything like the same sort of box office.

The first Croc, 1986's biggest movie worldwide, remained Australia's highest earner until toppled 12 years later by Titanic; 1988's Croc 2, although disappointing by comparison, still follows Babe as the third-biggest local hit ever.

Those expecting stylistic or comedic advances on the proven franchise format will be disappointed. Hogan ambles through the same sort of lazily-developed 'adventure', interspersed with the same hit-or-miss quickie vignettes that contrast the simple dangers of the Australian Outback with the baffling complexities of American urban life. Though the on-screen scripting credit goes to Matthew Berry and Eric Abrams 'based on characters created by Paul Hogan', the movie is a seamless extension of the previous outings: Hogan's firmly guiding hand is apparent everywhere.

Things get off to a brisk start in a waterway outside Dundee's home town Walkabout Creek (population: 20) as the superpowered hunter tries to capture a giant crocodile (hey, kids, he wouldn't dream of killing one!) and then subdues a wild boar with the power of his concentration and finger-pointing. But the danger and fun at watching our hero so at ease in his natural habitat soon ends when his New York newshound partner Sue (Kozlowski) is invited to fill in at the Los Angeles newsroom of her father's paper. Taking their young son Mickey (Cockburn) with them, the couple are installed in an ultra-modern townhouse where, of course, remote-controlled technology baffles poor Croc.

Adventure, of a coolish sort, confronts Sue as she examines the unfinished investigation by her killed-in-suspicious-circumstances predecessor (something to do with drugs and/or art smuggling). Dundee gets involved, becomes a hopeless Hollywood film extra and a brilliant monkey wrangler, tames lions and solves the case, with the underused Sue and Mickey relegated to the sidelines.

Hogan's wife Kozlowski reprises her role as the sophisticated New Yorker who fell for the Aussie rough diamond. While, 13 years on, Hogan looks reasonably the same - same wiry, wrinkled friendliness, same bush hat Kozlowski is hard to recognise as the vibrant, sexy, free-spirited goer of Crocs 1 and 2. Always well covered up and sporting an array of firmly-held coiffures, here she does not have much interaction with either her partner or her son beyond rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders. One flower-arranging scene is particularly deadly.

A perma-tanned George Hamilton discussing enemas and a cuddly Mike Tyson make weirdly inappropriate guest appearances in what is otherwise a gently familiar and perfectly acceptable return for the internationally recognised Australian icon. This is not cutting edge Australian comedy; it is, as Hogan explains, 'export comedy', a self-deprecating version that worldwide audiences understand and clearly enjoy.

The key to its good-natured success is the mightily matey Hogan/Dundee himself, of whom a fellow extra in the Hollywood film-making sequence says - and you can sense Hogan's mischievous delight - "Hell of a nice guy. Can't act for shit."