[Note: I wrote this review while employed at Paramount Pictures.]
When I first saw the poster for this movie at work, with '80s icon Paul Hogan smiling in front of a smudge of fluorescent paint smears and a palm tree, I wondered, what decade are we in?
Then I just felt bad. Bad for the aging Hogan, who, after 13 years of trying, obviously can't sell himself as anything but Crocodile Dundee, and bad for my employer Paramount, for claiming creative bankruptcy by releasing a sequel that absolutely nobody on earth was waiting for.
The movie itself is harmless, bland, quiet, and forgettable. It was clearly shot on the cheap: Paramount's own lot, which is all-business in real life, here is dolled up as a Universal Studios-style theme park, but in a strictly low-rent kind of way.
Hogan at least retains his lazy charm, and his wife Linda Kozlowski, whom he romanced on the first Dundee way back in 1986, comes out of semiretirement to play the girlfriend again. (Clearly she's just supporting the hubby.)
I won't bother providing a plot summary for you, as Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles is one of those movies whose very titles tell you everything you need to know.