I have always thought there was something likable about Paul Hogan and his seemingly unassuming, rough, good-natured charm. It was what made Crocodile Dundee such an international hit, and even tempted travelers to visit Down Under with the promise of “another shrimp on the barbie.”

With Crocodile Dundee it was always difficult to know where Hogan finished and the fictional character began. They seemed one-and-the same—even if there was a sneaking suspicion that for anyone to be this nice in the world of entertainment he must be a bit of a bastard.

Crocodile Dundee was a phenomenal success by any standards, but especially for a first film.

“Everything was a first. It was my first film script. I’d written 500 sketches but this was a long sketch.

“John (Cornell) had never produced a movie. Peter Faiman was the boy wonder of television but he’d never directed a movie. Everyone in it except the technical crew were first-timers.

“It went through the roof. It became the most successful independent movie ever made around the world. It was like going to the Olympics and rolling your jeans up and saying, ‘Can I have a run in the 100?’ and winning the gold medal.”

Paul Hogan’s comedy career started when he was a rigger and painter on the Sydney Harbor Bridge. His break came doing stand-up on the TV talent show New Faces, which eventually led to his own hit comedy series in 1973.

Like many other actors and actresses, Hogan did a brief spell selling cigarettes to his fellow Australians in the 1970s. His ads for Winfields made the brand a best-seller, and his tag-line, “Anyhow, have a Winfield…” became a national catchphrase.
 

 
It is something Hogan now regrets, and he considers “encouraging people to smoke,” as akin to being a “drug dealer.”

“At the time, 1971 or something, they used to say: ‘Doctors recommend …’ or ‘Nine out of 10 smokers prefer…’ We were all being conned. When they put the medical warning in there I said, ‘I’m going to get out of this.’

“Young ones were taking up smoking and all going for Winfield. It was a staggering success but I was a drug dealer.

“But who knew then?”

There it is again, that disarming charm.