Still Funny, Still Iconic—Just a Little Kinder: Rewatching Crocodile Dundee in the Woke Era

Well, it’s a miracle I’ve survived.

I’ve just watched the Encore version of Crocodile Dundee—that beloved slice of 1980s Aussie cinema that somehow wrangled knife fights, New York skyscrapers, and outback charm into one surprisingly tender tale. And here’s the kicker: I laughed. I was engaged. I didn’t morph into a snowflake. I didn’t lose my values, masculinity, or sense of humour. And contrary to some online predictions, I didn’t combust into a puff of politically correct ash.

What I did experience was essentially the same movie I remember, only with slightly sharper sound, cleaner visuals, and a few minor trims that—if anything—made it easier to enjoy with a broader audience. This, to me, is not cultural erosion. It’s evolution.

Yet apparently, even that is controversial.

The Weaponisation of “Woke”

When I checked out the reviews for the re-release, I was struck not by the film’s content—but by the sheer volume of rage. One-star reviews peppered with outrage, accusing the studio of bowing to “woke lunacy,” “censorship,” and “modern moral tyranny.” The improved sound, the lovingly remastered visuals, the fact that the film is now more accessible to younger or more diverse viewers—none of that mattered. The focus was on what had been removed.

Interestingly, most of these reviews admitted they hadn’t even watched the updated version. That in itself speaks volumes.

We’re in an era where terms like “woke” and “cancel culture” have become sledgehammers used to squash nuance. People hear that a movie from decades ago has been altered and leap immediately to the conclusion that it must be ruined. That it’s a symptom of a society gone mad. That nothing is safe anymore.

But here’s the problem: most of that outrage is reactionary and ill-informed. It’s not about what’s actually changed—it’s about the idea of change.

Censorship vs. Evolution

Let’s be clear: I’ve always been against censorship in its worst forms. The idea of rewriting history, or sanitising culture until it becomes bland and meaningless, doesn’t sit well with me. But that’s not what happened here.

When I first heard about the changes to Crocodile Dundee, I’ll admit, I bristled. Why tamper with a classic? Why meddle with a film that so many Australians (and film lovers around the world) hold dear?

Then I looked into it.

Two scenes were removed. That’s it. Two scenes. And they weren’t pivotal, clever, or necessary. They were throwaway moments—gags or behaviours that haven’t aged well and don’t align with the character’s overall arc of decency, curiosity, and humour.

Removing those scenes didn’t weaken the film—it strengthened it.

It made the character of Mick Dundee more consistent. A man who defends others, who listens, who learns, and who treats people with kindness and openness. Why saddle that man with a couple of throwaway jokes or moments that blur his moral compass? Especially when we’re living in a time when positive, strong, emotionally intelligent male role models are sorely needed.

This wasn’t censorship. It was thoughtful editing.

“Woke” Isn’t a Dirty Word

There’s a bizarre irony in the way “woke” has been transformed into a slur. At its core, being “woke” simply means being awake to injustice. Aware. Alert. Empathetic.

Yes, there are extremes. Yes, context matters. But does removing a crude moment from a 40-year-old film to make it better for more people really represent some sort of Orwellian overreach?

Change isn’t always bad.

I’ve had moments in my life where I’ve looked back on things I said, laughed at, or brushed off, and thought, “Wow, I wouldn’t do that now.” That’s not weakness—that’s growth. That’s maturity. That’s recognising that society evolves, and so should we.

If the cost of a broader, kinder, more inclusive world is trimming a couple of scenes from a movie—scenes that don’t even serve the character—then sign me up.

We Don’t Lose Culture by Improving It

Watching Crocodile Dundee again, I was reminded of why the film worked in the first place. It wasn’t just the fish-out-of-water antics or the classic one-liners—it was the warmth. The respect for people, even in unfamiliar settings. The idea that decency is universal, whether you're in the Outback or midtown Manhattan.

That’s the spirit worth preserving.

We don’t lose culture by acknowledging its rough edges. We honour it by helping it grow—just as we expect people to grow.

What disappoints me most is that this re-release could have been a celebration. Instead, it’s become a battlefield for cultural anxiety. People fighting against changes they don’t even understand, in a film they haven’t even seen.

We’re so used to fighting over ideology that we’ve stopped asking: What was the actual impact?

In this case: better character clarity. Better sound and visuals. More accessibility. Fewer reasons to wince when watching with your kids or your friends.

Is that really such a tragedy?

Final Thoughts: The Knife’s Still Not a Knife

In the end, Crocodile Dundee: Encore is still the same film. The heart is intact. The humour is intact. The sense of place and time is intact.

It’s just a little more in step with the world we live in now.

And if a film can be improved—genuinely improved—by making its lead character stronger, more likeable, and more inspiring for modern audiences, then that’s not “woke gone mad.”

That’s storytelling done right.

So, before you dismiss something because it’s been updated or refined, consider this: maybe it hasn’t been weakened. Maybe, just maybe, it’s been made better.

That’s not about being woke. That’s about being wise.