Who of us hasn’t had the pleasure of buying a vintage brownstone house in the heart of Manhattan, only to find that it is inhabited by a ten-foot-tall crocodile with a beautiful singing voice, as well as his eccentric owner, a magician who is trying his best to break into the mainstream? If you are anything like the characters at the heart of Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile, this is a pretty common occurrence – but for the rest of the world, its the foundation for one of the more peculiar films of the year, a charming family-based comedy that adapts the book of the same title by Bernard Waber, which explores the trials and tribulations of the titular character, the most gentle of reptilians, as he navigates a world in which he is an outsider, helped along by his friends and colleagues that support him on whatever journey a crocodile undertakes. Will Speck and Josh Gordon were certainly not the first people we’d imagine when thinking of directors that would typically be hired to helm a film adaptation of a beloved children’s film (with their previous output being far more aligned with adult-oriented fare – and it doesn’t help that their other feature films are not particularly good), but they prove to be quite adept at handling some of the more nuanced elements of the story, going in search of a range of deeper themes that are not always manifested, based on the very simple fact that this is a film marketed towards children more than any other demographic – but while some may lament this lack of complexity as being indicative of poor filmmaking, for Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile it is an absolute benefit, a compelling explanation for the creation of a truly lovely, captivating film that has as much heart and soul as it does humour, being a deeply enjoyable and very endearing comedy that shows that some of the most absurd ideas can result in pure magic when done correctly.

Undeniably, the reason behind making Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile is intrinsically credited to the existence of the two Paddington films, in which audiences were almost universally charmed by the exploits of that iconic young bear as he navigates the fantastical streets of London, accompanied by a range of friends and family. It almost seems like the intention behind this film was to make an American version of this kind of story, where a lovable protagonist, proven to be the perfect blend of human and animal in terms of behaviour and temperament, wins our hearts by simply being a very compelling protagonist who is seemingly without any flaws, and who exists to entertain the audience and incite a feeling of warmth and comfort. Obviously there is a massive difference (physically and logically) between a rotund little bear and an enormous, prehistoric creature that is almost universally considered dangerous – but this is something that Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile intentionally uses as a theme, riffing on a range of compelling ideas. Both the original story and The House on East 88th Street (which is set in the house prior to the events of the story and its various adaptations, offering insights into the setting, which is important considering how much of this narrative depends on the feeling of comfort that comes with such a house and its history) are based around the theme of exploring how unexpected characters can be protagonists, and using a very strong set of key components, which include unforgettable music, which was written by Justin Paul and Benji Pasek (who have done a lot of excellent work over the past decade), and a very precise control of its narrative, Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile manages to be an absolute delight in a way that many may not expect.

With films like Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile, a sense of humour is always required, especially from the actors – not only does it help make their performances more entertaining, it allows them to simply surrender to the absurdity of making such a film, which really only comes together once the main character is introduced in post-production (one must assume all auditions for real crocodiles did not work out particularly well) – so essentially, the actors are performing across from very little, and yet have to turn in strong work that can convincingly lead us to believe that what we are seeing is real, at least in terms of younger audiences. Credit must be given where it is due, and Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile has some terrific performances – Javier Bardem seems to be having the most fun with a role that we’ve seen in quite some time (or perhaps ever), gleefully leaping onto the silliness of the story, which only makes his performance as the eccentric magician all the more compelling. It’s not intensely brilliant acting, but it’s the kind of solid performance that many actors struggle to give, since it requires them to abandon all sense of self-awareness and just let loose in a way that the inherent pride of established performers normally preclude. The same can be said for Constance Wu and Scoot McNairy, who are very good as the patsies to the exploits of the titular crocodile and his friends, which include Bardem and Winslow Fegley, who may not be the strongest actor (and can sometimes come across as intensely false, which is unfortunately a byproduct of casting younger and more inexperienced actor), but who is solid. Interestingly, much of this film was built on the premise of Shawn Mendes as Lyle, which is an odd choice until you realize the extent of his participation isn’t to act, but rather to give voice to the character solely through singing, his angelic voice being an oddly decent fit for the character. None of these performances are revolutionary, but they are solid and contribute to the overall experience of the film, which is important in drawing the audience in and maintaining our attention.

Ultimately, we can attribute the fact that Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile is relatively successful to the fact that this is a film that just knows how to have fun, which seems to be the primary motive for the creation of the story in the first place, with all other intentions being supplementary (or even accidental in some cases). There has been a movement in family-oriented cinema that everything needs to have a deeper meaning, with far too many instances of it feeling like these films are preaching to the audience long before they are doing anything close to entertaining us. This film may not have a particular complex underlying message, and whatever themes it does explore have been the focus of countless films (it is yet another example of the cliched trope of the misunderstood outsider triumphing over detractors who don’t see their inner value) – but we still feel a connection to the story, mainly since it touches on ideas that are universal. However, this never takes priority, and what Gordon and Speck were aiming to do here was simply to create a story about a crocodile with a beautiful singing voice and the various people whose lives he changes through his positive outlook. Pasek and Paul write some terrific songs that match the tone and register of the film as a whole, and while it may obviously pale in comparison to their work on La La Land and The Greatest Showman (but at least being far superior to the trite Dear Evan Hansen), there are several earworms that find their way through the film, and it only helps that they carry a lot of heart that keeps the film buoyant and entertaining, while still allowing the emotion to seap through in a way that is obvious but never exploitative or manipulative, which is always a concern with such films.

Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile is nothing all too serious, and its a film that is best appreciated on a surface level, since searching for deeper meaning will only lead to disappointment, since this is not a film that warrants all that much attention as anything more than just charming and endearing family-oriented fare. It maintains a strong energy that never wavers (which is impressive considering the film approaches two hours, which is quite long for this kind of story, especially one drawn from the relatively paltry source material), and the humour and nuance that are packaged with it becomes a major factor in our enjoyment of the material, which is nothing groundbreaking or revolutionary, but at least it is very fun, which is all that matters. It has some impressive technical prowess – beyond the level of detail in creating the titular character (who looks authentic enough to exist in the real world, but is ever so slightly made to appear comical, to help justify his unique abilities), the film has some strong musical sequences that are well-shot and beautifully choreographed, with the scene set atop the St James Theatre being a particular standout – the film is a great love letter to New York City as a whole, and anyone who has spent some time there will be able to recognize many of the less-notable landmarks, which is quite a unique trait for such a film – and is overall just a lot of fun, in the way that we don’t normally see when it comes to these charming little family comedies. Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile is a lovely film about individuality that is well-made, compelling and always entertaining, and with some good performances and lovely music, it makes for a wonderfully upbeat and enjoyable experience. It won’t break records, but rather contribute to a steady canon of decent youth-oriented comedies, which is all it aimed to achieve.