Crocodile
Poffy
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From
Barbecued Shrimps to New York Pimps and Boyfriend Wimps.
by
Jon Dunmore © 20 May 2006.
Growing
up in Australia, I knew of Paul Hogan since the mid '70s.
A regular face on Australian tv with his hilarious Paul
Hogan Show, he was the paragon of the ocker Everyman.
("Ocker" is an uncultivated Australian; one of low
social caste, revealed through their broad accent and over-use
of Aussie slang - a near analogue of America's trailer park
contingent.)
These days, Paul Hogan is a god.
I didn't know Hogan personally, although in 1991, I performed
a few rock gigs with his eldest son, guitarist Clay - an apple
who fell far from the tree. Not talent-wise, but industry-wise.
In
2006, Hogan seems to have joined his son in that meadow,
slowly rotting far from the industry's fickle tree. But
in a fluke of good timing back in 1986, Hogan's weathered,
masculine bushman character from the Australian outback
happened to be the perfect foil to New York's 80s hairstyles,
yuppie consumerism and disco sensibilities.
From
a story by Hogan, John Cornell and Ken Shadie, and helmed
by mustered Australian television director, Peter Faiman,
Crocodile Dundee not only put Hogan on the world
stage - it put Australia there too. Dundee captured
the earthy, textured Australia that lent a "heritage"
aspect to that juvenile backwater, and was largely responsible
for the misperception of the "hardened Aussie"
in subsequent Fosters beer ads. Though merely a modern,
laconic retelling of the noble savage tale, the movie is
refreshing enough in its simplicity and sincerity to garner
itself a little shelf life in the Tarzan pantheon.
American
audiences were ready to embrace the
blond, blue-eyed, rugged, crocodile hunter after Hogan kicked
Australian tourism up ten notches with his spurious offer
to "put another shrimp on the Barbie."
Even
though there was no such thing
Y'see,
Australians call shrimp "prawns." And no one
- but NO ONE - ever included prawns in their barbecue
menus. Take my word. I'm Australian. At the million or so
barbecues I attended whilst growing up Downunda, barbecuists
were known to put various foodstuffs on the "barbie"
- sausages - yes; t-bones - yes; chicken, hamburgers, franks,
buns, onions, fish, potatoes, tomatoes, chops - but no shrimp.
It was a fantasy created by American marketers. But, much
like The
Godfather influenced the vernacular and lifestyles
of real mobsters, so too has that "shrimp" fiction
become reality, in the States and Australia alike. To the
point where I almost feel like I'm the one who is
lying about the historical non-existence of this cuisine
Onward.
Crocodile
Dundee finds Hogan as the somewhat mythical eponymous
character, Michael J. "Crocodile" Dundee, infamous
for his wild croc encounters. Sue Charlton (Linda Kozlowski),
an American newspaper reporter on assignment in Australia,
chases him down in a Northern Territory backwater, Walkabout
Creek, spending three sensually-charged days in the bush
with him (ostensibly to recount his tall tales for her column),
then packs him off to New York with her, on the pretense
of wrapping the tale Stateside, but more truthfully drawn
to the masculinity which her effete American fiancé
cannot provide.
Throughout
the movie, Dundee is a surprising blend of legitimacy (hypnotizing
animals, a crack shot) and fakery (pretending to shave with
his knife or tell the time by the sun's position); a fascinating
mix of innocence ("What's today, Wal?"), philosophy
("Aborigines don't own the land - they belong to it"),
and machismo (with a heroic crocodile kill that saves Sue's
life).
The
New York segment is, ultimately, where the fish-out-of-water
absurdities are just waiting to happen. Nothing new here,
as the film takes on a decidedly 80's plastic flavor, with
Dundee encountering bidets, jealous boyfriends and jive
talk, drag queens, muggers and pimps. Oh my.
It's
always nostalgic for me to hear the song "Live It Up"
during the suburban party scene. Though performed by average
Australian band Mental As Anything, due to never hearing
it outside Australian shores, it has become somewhat of
a poignant memory. The other party song, "Different
World," was performed by another obscure Australian
band - INXS.
During
the Australian segment, Peter Best's soundtrack evokes Aboriginal
otherworldliness by employing simple flute and guitar lines,
Aboriginal clicking sticks and didgeridoo pulses. His main
theme is brilliantly based on a one-note jogging pulse,
tribal and sensual, like a heartbeat of the living earth.
The
cheesy romantic climax sees Woman Running Through Streets
and Public Avowal Of Love clichés. Tempering this
silliness is Best's one-note pulse, at first subliminal,
sustaining and growing over five minutes, throbbing at our
temples in driving urgency, and at the movie's final shot
is like a throat-gurgling orgasm of sound, holding up the
finale with its power, cutting through the cliché.
Now
that's a knife!
END
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