By Jonah Naplan

October 8, 2022

At this point, I honestly cannot discern if I liked “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” because it’s actually a good kids movie, or because I had such a good time watching it with my friends. We’ve been using this film as a meme for the past few weeks, talking about how great “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” was going to be. The trailer made it look like the greatest film of all time. Of course! Was our rambunctious excitement towards it ironic? Yes. It definitely was. But I love walking into movies with the anticipation that we’re about to watch a cheesy, over-the-top film that might even become a cult classic in the future years. Will “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” achieve such a thing? It’s tough to say. Because a kids movie is going to be much more overlooked than even your average indie. But that’s not to say that a movie about a singing crocodile voiced by Shawn Mendes won’t capture the attention of movie lovers everywhere. My excitement level for it reminds me of how I, and others, went into “Minions: The Rise of Gru” this past summer. “Minions” is the better movie, but “Lyle, Lyle” is definitely more absurd, to be sure.

“Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” is based off of the beloved 1965 children’s book of the same name by Bernard Waber. And it’s about, well, a crocodile who lives with a family in New York—the mom, (Constance Wu) the dad, (Scoot McNairy) and the son (Winslow Fegley). It’s an outlandish concept that was probably a lot more believable in its picture book. That’s not to say that “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” (the movie) isn’t realistic. Wait hold on. I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” is VERY unrealistic, so much so, to a point, that it’s often hilarious. I guess what I’m trying to say is that it was probably easier to accept Lyle’s misadventures in drawing form, than in a live action movie with real actors. But that’s not a bad thing. “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” is especially entertaining because it often doesn’t make a lot of sense. I mean, it’s about a singing crocodile who walks around on two feet, like a person, without people raising an eyebrow at the absurdity of the sight.

Lyle can sing but seemingly cannot talk in a normal voice. He breaks out into song during random moments, almost so excessively that it feels like the directors know how ridiculous this concept is. Or maybe they don’t know that. The thing about movies like “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” is that they’re unpredictable to a point where I have no clue what the filmmakers were thinking. But whatever it was, they sure did make a film with such exuberance that it left a smile on my face for the entire runtime. Even the music from Benj Pasek and Justin Paul isn’t actually too bad. It’s certainly no “La La Land” or “The Greatest Showman” or “Dear Evan Hansen,” (I just named all of their film music credits) but it kept my friends and I jamming. Again, that could be ironic, however.

I often couldn’t comprehend what was happening onscreen during “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile.” There’s an opening number and dance sequence that shows how Lyle grows in the weeks after he’s adopted by Hector P. Valenti (Javier Bardem), and it contains some of the most…I don’t even have a word for it…shots I think I’ve ever seen. But that wasn’t even my favorite part. My favorite part was definitely when Lyle roared like a lion. Some may call all of this controlled chaos. I don’t think it’s much “controlled.”

Where “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” legitimately falters is in the plot structure department. It’s longer than most children’s movies, and sometimes feels like it’s running longer than it needs to. Sure, it’s certainly fast-paced and isn’t ever a bore, although I would be lying to you if I said I never bothered to check my watch during the “slower” scenes. I put “slower” in quotation marks, because all that entails is moments without singing and dancing and music. (But that’s few occasions, mind you).

The movie definitely knows its target audience, and has no shortage of poop and bodily fluid based jokes. But I think the musical numbers will also attract the attention of young children too, particularly the opening one I mentioned earlier, as well as a concluding one that elicited a round of applause from my crowd. And I don’t even think that our reaction was actually ironic. Some of the cinematography and production values are uncalled-for, and are somewhat impressive to some regard. There’s one particular transition that was so extra, so unneeded, so pristine, that it became a novelty. And come to think of it, there were actually a few of them.

I wanna say that makes “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” stand out from the crowd of children’s movies (animated or not animated), although literally everything about “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” stands out just in the entire world of cinema, period. Take the whole family. But you shouldn’t be surprised when the film gives your child a side effect called “Standing on the roof of a New York City apartment building singing your heart out.”

Now playing in theaters.