Date Released: 07/12/2002
Rated: PG (for action/violence, mild language)
Length: 88 minutes
Produced by: Arnold Rifkin, Judi Bailey, John Stainton
Directed by: John Stainton
Cast: Steve Irwin, Terri Irwin, Lachy Hulme, Magda Szubanski, David Wenham, Aden Young, Kenneth Ransom, Kate Beahan
Distributor: MGM
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Although Irwin is an undeniably spunky and fascinating character study, the silly script that dictates this amateurish wildlife comedy caper drowns out the impact of the film's strangely charismatic leading man. Irwin's innocuous mockery suddenly becomes stifled by the trite and indolent premise. Director John Stainton (the force behind Irwin's bemusing television antics) supports his off-kilter croc-hunting star with interesting critters to keep the masses mildly entertained. But Stainton fails to keep Irwin and company in line with decent intrigue that's awkwardly misplaced along with hit-and miss nervous laughs that occasionally materialize. This is what made Steve Irwin and his outback outings so splendidly desirable on the boob tube in the first place. Audiences appreciated the ditherness behind the weekly dangerous adventures that Irwin embarked on with giddiness. Instead, Stainton throws in some pointless plot about American CIA agents and a spy satellite swallowed by a mischievous crocodile that's being tracked by the determined Irwin. The result: a hammered together and punishingly nature-oriented farce that gives as much bite as a toothless baby croc. Crikey!!!
Ill-advisedly, "The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course" tries its best to be two-movies-for-the-price-of-one. Suffice to say, it fails on both levels. When Irwin and his fearless American-born wife Terri are out and about in terms of mingling with the creepy and crawling creatures, there's a sense of chaotic frolic to be had by all. The film is naughty fun when you see the Irwins tangle with the ominous habitat that only Marlon Perkins and his ilk can fully appreciate. But then this begs the question: why go through the trouble of checking out Irwin and his familiar high jinks on the big screen when you can see a better product on the small screen in the comforts of your own home? And one wouldn't have to endure the contrived and senseless accompanying storyline that smothers the real treat of seeing the Irwin family relate to their wild surroundings in daring, earnest fashion.
The "second" movie involves the aforementioned plot that has nitwitted CIA operatives trying to lasso Steve and Terri in an effort to label them enemy agents, mainly because their huge reptilian four-legged friend gulped down a notable device from a U.S. spy satellite system that previously exploded in outer space. Huh? Needing to get their hands on this critical part before it "upsets the world's balance", the American contingency head to Australia where they haplessly tussle with our cheeky revered hero and his menagerie of misfits.
At best, "The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course" is a mediocre vehicle that uses the excuse (and opportunity) to introduce the lovable daredevil wackjob Steve Irwin to a broader audience. And why not? Irwin, after all, is indeed one-of-a-kind and he does possess an odd enthusiasm in what he considers his stimulating and valued livelihood. Irwin is definitely informative, imaginative and deliriously dedicated. And let's face it...some folks are curiously mystified by him. Stainton is wise enough to incorporate the dependable trappings that his star relies on--combating crocs, snakes and spiders, talking to the camera in an effort to enlighten his devoted followers, showcasing that goofy and excitable persona, soaking up the thrill of the environmental moments, etc. Still, this isn't enough to equal the spontaneous spark that Irwin demonstrates so effortlessly on his riotous, noteworthly TV series.
Unfortunately, the only thing that collaborators Stainton and Irwin couldn't wrangle besides a moody reptile is a drippy screenplay that notoriously sprung from the loosely inept fingertips of writer Holly Goldberg Sloan. A cute ploy is obviously having the Irwins approach their wily wits with the intended vigor necessary to stimulate the proceedings. Not so cute is seeing how clumsy and cockeyed the transparent tripe overtakes the subplot about hopeless American G-men and the indifference to their nature-loving counterparts. Whatever.
For the most part, Irwin tries his darndest to maintain that cheerful Aussie spirit while engaging in the frenetic frivolity that has become his characteristic signature. We become devilishly entranced when Irwin pounces on the croc's back because there's a hint of no restricted boundaries; you get the sense that the Irwins will stop it nothing to go through great lengths to capture our imagination. But with colorless supporting characters and Irwin's knack for gimmicky gestures such as examining animal fecal droppings, one gets the feeling that there's more than just this hyper croc hunter heading for a certain collision course. All I can say is, "grab your helmets, mates!"
The kiddies may unknowingly take Irwin and company in acceptable, good-natured doses. But for most adults watching this hollow showcase, they're most likely to yell, "what a darn croc!" Let's put the shrimp on the barbie and call it a day, shall we?
Frank rates this film: ** stars (out of 4 stars)