Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles (PG)
Director: Simon Wincer
Bug rating: 5/5

Australians have the world's greatest sense of humour, right?
And Mick Dundee is our greatest-ever larrikin export?
So your humble reviewer is taking no chances as he takes in the long-awaited trequel, especially after that accident while watching Crocodile Dundee 2. Gosh, has it been that long since I was banned from that particular cinema?
So the extra strength kimbies are snugly in place as I settle in with eager anticipation.
I'm riding high in the saddle – Kimbies' latest range, now with added padding and easier-to-use side fasteners – tend to do that to a man. But they're damn comfy – frankly, I use no other – and they're good and ready for a proper workout.
And they're put to the test right from the outset when this black fella tells Mick he's heard of our hero's embarrassing incident with a rogue croc that we've witnessed just moments before.
Well, Hoges thinks it must be some blackfella telepathic magic and I'm wondering if I'm the only one in the cinema who didn't see it coming when the blackfella grabs a mobile phone out of his loincloth.
Already those space-technology abortion crystals are coming into their own.
Now what's this! Hoges and his kid are rescuing a skunk on the LA freeway and the local traffic cops think the world's most famous croc catcher is holding a bomb!
Hold on tight because here comes the sequence where some Hollywood wannabes at a Hollywood B-list party think Mick is close pals with Mel Gibson when all along Mick thinks they are talking about Malcolm Gibson, a tall, red headed fellow from Walkabout Creek. That's right. Malcolm. Mal. Not the pint-sized actor, see.
Already your reviewer is wishing he'd double insulated the kimbies with some Gladwrap liner as a precautionary measure like he does when he's watching an Eddie Murphy movie.
Especially as here's George Hamilton, saying how much he loves taking coffee enemas. That's where he gets his tan from, get it?
Pee most definitely would be flowing all over the carpet in cinema 5 at AMC, Stafford, if it wasn't for those kimbies. God bless their patented contoured side flanges.
But it doesn't end there.
Now Dundee and his droopy drop/sidekick (smart Alec Wilson) are beating a hasty retreat from a gay bar full of cowboys with their butts hanging out.
Oh, look out. Dribble alert!
And here they are – our two barramundi well and truly out of water – at a set of traffic lights waiting to cross.
Well, explains Hoges, we're in for a long wait because there's hundreds of them cars and just two of us.
I'll fix that, says Jacko (not so smart Alec Wilson) pressing the button a dozen times to even up the score a bit. Oh, oh! Moisture alert on the inner right thigh region. Hold out there!!!!!
Good one, says Mick wisely, 'cos he's been to the big Apple, so he knows, right, that this being the goddamned United States of America, there's overhead cameras everywhere so you've just dobbed yourself in over and over again, pal! Pressure's building, I can feel it!!!
Not that the drop/side kick was doing anything illegal at that stage unless traffic light button abuse is now a capital offence under George Dubya. But when has cutting edge, off-the-wall humour ever made sense, eh?
Besides, says the sidekick, they don't know who we are anyway, as they start to cross legally
Oh der, says Dundee. Your photo was on your passport when you came into the country wasn't it?!!!
Holy Kimbies overload alert! I'm not sure I can take much more of this.
But I'm going to have to because we're only half way through the piddlefest at hand but thankfully not under foot. Yet.
What's this? Mick and his son, Mickey (Serge Cockburn) are encountering a meditating Mike Tyson in a park and Mick tells his son afterwards that he's a good judge of character and that fella back there wouldn't hurt a fly.
Oh, oh! Get back everyone, it's gonna burst!
Please, God, now don't show me the scene where Dundee sticks a knife through the mechanical anaconda on the studio lot tour and then looks all goofy!!
Bastard! Woosh!!!! Look out! Is this the remake of the Dambusters or what????? Is there a mop in the house????

- Don Gordon-Brown

Lost Souls (MA)
Director: Janjsz Kaminski
Bug rating: 0.5/5

YOU'VE got to admit the devil makes one helluva God-botherer.
Consider all the tricks up his bright-red sleeve to deliver/lure us to eternal damnation: he can make a head spin; sever it neatly with a pane of glass if he wants; rip out the pews of an entire church; morph into all sorts of monsters and Liz Hurley.
And what has the big fella up there got to compete with all this magic? Nothing more than a blinding white light with violin or choral accompaniment to keep us in line, especially since he's long eschewed SFX to clinch the deal (the tricks with the loaves and fishes and the parting of the Red/Dead/Whatever Sea were probably his last memorable gigs).
So you can see God needs all the help he can muster whenever the Prince of Darkness decides to take over the world, which is about once every few months according to Hollywood.
And that's why we have the Catholic Church, with its do-it-yourself guide to conducting exorcisms.
But why we had to have Lost Souls is another matter entirely.
To make End of Days look good? Fallen brilliant?
Besides, what on earth possessed Winona Ryder to take on the role of Maya "In Goth we Trust" Larkin, whose unpleasant job it is to wear a black wig and warn author Peter Kelson (Ben Chaplin) that he's about to be taken over by the devil if he can't act any better by the final reel?
It can't have been to work with first-time director Kaminski, whose credits as a cinematographer (Schindlers List, Saving Private Ryan) show just how bad he can be when there's no-one to keep him in line and hide his ultra-close up lens.
It can't have been for the storyline which is only marginally more unoriginal than it is unscary.
The only reasonable conclusion is that it was for the huge kickback from the tobacco lobby for smoking in just about every scene.

- Don Gordon-Brown



Memento (MA)
Writer/director: Christopher Nolan
Bug rating: 4/5

You're going to have to excuse me because I have a problem with short term mem....
Damn, there it goes again.
And why is this crumpled picture of Aussie actor Guy Pearce in my hand?
Just as importantly, why is he wearing that tizzy lip look from Priscilla: Queen of the Desert?
Is that what this is: a retrospective of his career? Or some new release?
It can't be Memento because I saw that in London last year and that part of my life is crystal clear.
Top movie too, with Pearce outstanding as Leonard, the man with no memory trying to track down his wife's killer and the whole thing shot in reverse to reveal a real sting in the tale, if not the tail.
But that's not helping us right now.
Luckily, something is written on my left thigh. It says: !omem a flesruoy etirw
No help there. Hang on, here's a mirror. Write yourself a memo!
That at least makes sense, but why a memo? And why does that ring a bell?
Because it sounds a bit like Memento the movie I saw in London last year? That part of my life is crystal clear.
Top movie too, with Pearce outstanding as Leonard, the man with no memory trying to track down his wife's killer and the whole thing shot in reverse to reveal a real sting in the tale, if not the tail.
But that's not helping us right now.
The best thing now, surely, would be to start at the beginning.
So let's do that.
Damn, there it goes again.
You're going to have to excuse me because I have a problem with short term mem....

- Don Gordon-Brown

Lucky Numbers
Director: Nora Ephron
Bug rating: 1.5/5

Going .... going .... John! Travolta, that is.
In what is surely the most positive or negative, depending on how you view it, sign yet that Mr. Travolta is another slump comes this gobbler from Nora Ephron, once famous for Sleepless in Seattle.
The action centres around a scam to win the lottery and apparently is based on a real life attempt to do so, which took place in Pennsylvania in 1980.
This time around, the conspirator is Russ Richards, local tv weather guy and town hero. Russ has not used his celebrity wisely and his recently purchased snow mobile shop is going down hill, on account of a very warm winter. Cursed El Nino.
Soon, he runs into money trouble and needs a solution because after all, no money will mean he can't get to California to one day become an even bigger celebrity.
Desperate, he turns to pal Gig (Tim Roth, who sadly got involved in all this), a sleazy nightclub owner and part time thug for help. After a few bungled robberies and assorted friviolities, Gig has the blinding insight to get Russ to somehow fix the lottery, get someone else to buy the ticket and bob's your uncle, millions of dollars are yours.
It shouldn't be too hard for Russ, because he is "involved" with his station's lotto girl, Crystal Latroy (Lisa Kudrow) and fixing the
lotto should not be hard at all.
Sadly for Russ and Crystal, their collective IQ would at best be a mild winter's day in Brisbane and things start to go wrong. Soon, everyone is in on it, including the greedy television station owner (Ed O'Neill).
Bill Pullman also finds his way into the movie, as perhaps the worst cop in history and provides probably the only genuinely funny moments of the film.
And that is the main problem for Lucky Numbers - in what is a black comedy, the comedy is missing. It is just not that funny.
Occasionally the humour works, as in when Bill Pullman is on the screen which in itself is probably a bit of a worry, but for the most part it is conspicuously absent, much like the snow Russ Richards hopes will come and save his business.
So, all in all, chalk another poor choice down for John Travolta. He'd better pray and hope for another Pulp Fiction.

-Michael Gordon-Brown