The ravenous crocs, venemous snakes, and impassioned conservationists are the real things in The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course. Steve Irwin – a manic, sunstroked Ozzie – rattles across Far North Queensland, rescuing animals and honking into the camera just as he does on his popular Animal Planet show, while his American Campfire Girl of a wife, Terri, hauls gear. But the mad genius of this cheerily bonkers feature is the integration of a documentary-style safari into an outlandish fiction involving a fancy-pants CIA pursuit of a downed spy satellite, and a shotgun-wielding outback widow.
The outside-the-box premise invented by John Stainton (in which Stevo supposedly has no idea of the make-believe mayhem, and thinks the cartoon CIA heavies must be poachers) clears the traps of campiness by a short kangaroo hop. Crikey, who cares? The daft thing is wild about wildlife.