Bushwhacked

By RICHARD SCHICKEL

"CROCODILE" DUNDEE II

It was all so simple the first time around. Find a natural man and bring him to the big city where he can teach the slickers a thing or two about the continuing validity of the simple values like courage, modesty, an equable temperament and a straightforward definition of right and wrong. It was a little like watching Mr. Smith go to Washington or Mr. Deeds go to town. Except that Mick ("Crocodile") Dundee (Paul Hogan) not only spoke softly but also carried this enormous Australian bush knife, particularly useful in cutting through useless conversations.

"Crocodile" Dundee II reverses the formula by sending the natural man back to nature, an idea that has the virtue of originality but can be executed only with much tedious maneuvering. For some reason Hogan and his son Brett, who co-wrote the script, have decided that their heavies should be a ring of Colombian drug dealers. They have to be manipulated to New York City in order to menace Sue Charlton (Linda Kozlowski), Mick's perpetually adoring girlfriend. Then an unlikely band of citizens has to be recruited to help him rescue her. Then the criminals must be lured all the way to Australia so that Mick can prove what we already know: that their street smarts are no match for his outback smarts. Then, then, then. It's a little like listening to a child improvise a tall tale; the innocent charm quickly wears thin.

There are some sweet moments: Mick's casual rescue of a suicidal jumper from a skyscraper ledge; a momentary alliance with some Japanese tourists who prove to be funnily adept at karate; a friendship with a black man determined to project a menacing image, though he is actually a peaceable stationery salesman. But the film's many narrative obligations keep interrupting the consistent development of a lively comic-adventure pace and tone. John Cornell makes a diffident first-time director, unable to punch up a scene or a performance -- especially Hogan's. And Hogan is so determined to underplay his role that you sometimes have trouble hearing him. -- R.S.