It’s hard to tell where Mick Dundee’s reptile hide wardrobe ends and his epidermis begins in Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles, so prehistorically leathery has creator and star Paul Hogan become. At this point, the actor doesn’t just represent breezy Australian national character, he’s also a walking public service announcement for the importance of sunblock.
Now, a decade and a half after the canny character first boosted tourism, Mick schlepps his familiar act to L.A. His longtime girlfriend (Linda Kozlowski, as ever) is temporarily needed Stateside as a newspaper reporter, and the couple and their towheaded son (Serge Cockburn) move to Beverly Hills, where crocs, the plot makes thuddingly clear, are pussycats compared with Hollywood sharks. Freeway snarl ups, industry phonies, and assorted West Coast excesses are no match for the Aussie’s smarts. But the punchlines are as tired as Hogan looks braying ”g’day” between scenes of stunt doubles getting some exercise.