The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course Review

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A C.I.A. satellite crashes in the Australian outback, prompting a rescue mission to stop it falling into the wrong hands. Unfortunately, it's fallen into the wrong crocodile's stomach - enter the true Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin.


Where did it all go right? Much as Empire idolises Animal Planet's dangerous beasts wrangler Steve Irwin, the thought of his feature film debut was only slightly preferable to a cobra bite. Yet Collision Course is good fun.

Two reasons: director Stainton wisely ignores all postmodern urges to lampoon Irwin, instead letting the real actors bluster about in what feels like a different film, while the Irwins do their own "education through near-death experiences" thing.

And what a thing it is, as everybody's favourite khaki-wearing loon makes Jackie Chan look like a wuss - after all, that's him kissing the world's most poisonous snake in scenes more tense than many a blockbuster.

Ultimately, it's hard not to like a man who grabs the arse of every creature he meets and calls it "mate". Yes, even his wife.

It’s like channel-hopping between an Irwin documentary and an episode of The Flying C.I.A. Vets.