After hearing the tall tale of a man who was almost eaten by a croc, New York journalist Sue (Linda Kozlowski) heads to Australia to investigate in a flimsy pretext for an all-expenses paid holiday and an even flimsier pretext for a film.

There she meets Mick “Crocodile” Dundee (Paul Hogan), a bushsmart fisherman (or poacher), and the two hit it off. Reluctant to leave him out back, she brings him for a luxury, all-expenses paid trip to New York, apparently resulting in a series of wildly popular articles on a story barely worth 200 words in the Metro. In New York Dundee struggles to deal with civilisation as Sue goes out of her way to flirt with her boyfriend in front of him.

The journalist’s investigation is a familiar way of bringing characters together and telling a story. But rather than use it to give the characters depth, it’s only there to create the croc-out-of-water hilarity of seeing an Australian man in New York. The only problem is it’s not funny. So to compensate they make him into a caveman who can’t use an escalator, doesn’t know what cocaine is and thinks black Americans live in tribes.

The resulting film is boring, stupid, and the worst Australian export since Rolf Harris. Dijiridon’t.