It's often been said that if you must steal a storyline, it's wise to burgle the best. "Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile" almost disproves that assertion.
While screenwriter Will Davies was adapting Bernard Waber's children's books and their title character, he also borrowed generously from Chuck Jones' 1955 Warner Bros. classic Merrie Melodies cartoon "One Froggy Evening." While it was intended to precede a feature movie, "One Froggy Evening" belongs on just about any screen because its short running time and visual humor are timeless and universal.
Because the newer film skews young, much of its intended audience won't mind the pilfering. For most viewers, copying a storyline that has played in just about every corner of the world begs for comparison, which is likely to be unfavorable.
There is some wonder to be had with pairing cartoon characters with live performers, especially if the human performers don't treat the assignment begrudgingly. Gene Kelly and Michael Caine had some of their finest on-screen moments with an animated mouse and the Muppets, respectively.
Likewise, Oscar-winner Javier Bardem welcomes the chance to play aspiring magician Hector P. Valenti, whose lackluster illusions are getting him nowhere until he discovers a baby crocodile who can wail pop tunes flawlessly (that's probably because Canadian pop vocalist Shawn Mendes is doing the actual singing).
The two can sing and dance wonderfully together, until Lyle discovers that he's facing an audience. If you remember "One Froggy Evening," this will feel familiar.
Hector flees when he can't discover how to make a buck off Lyle, so a family called the Primms (Constance Wu, Scoot McNairy and Winslow Fegley) move into the showman's old apartment and find that Lyle is now fully grown and a bit difficult to hide.
This is a serious problem because their neighbor Mr. Grumps (Brett Gelman) badgers all the other residents of the building for excessive noise or any activity that might upset his Persian cat.
On the plus side, Lyle helps the Primms get past their name and begin to enjoy life. Then again, knowing that a crocodile has your back can boost confidence. The CGI croc's face is expressive, which helps because he can't say a word without a melody.
The dance numbers and songs (by tunesmiths Benj Pasek and Justin Paul of "The Greatest Showman") are delightful, and I love the idea of youngsters learning about Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder from a reptile. Gelman is appropriately slimy, but he's so much more enjoyable as Murray on "Stranger Things," where the character's pedantic nature is counterbalanced by courage and a freakish intelligence.
It's regrettable that Davies has settled for other shortcuts in addition to recalling Michigan J. Frog. There are promising hints about Lyle's dietary habits (Hector prudently keeps his rabbits and doves away). The comic potential of Lyle getting his sustenance without endangering other pets is great, but one scene ends up being more stomach churning than funny.
If you haven't seen "One Froggy Evening" yet, it's worth the trouble. I kept hearing Michigan J. Frog all through "Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile."