Doppio guaio a Los Angeles

I gave this movie a 3 (out of 10) and in retrospect, that may have been a mistake. Though it does have a huge so-bad-its-good factor, I feel guilty about elevating it above it's 2.7 rating and possibly leading anyone astray. Please allow me to plead my case.

This movie has it all. Twin behemoth body builder leads (David and Peter Paul), has been stars, really bad acting, guns with limitless ammo, a Trans Am and best of all, two of the most awe inspiring mullets in cinema history. Fantastic dated wardrobe, too, that makes M.C. Hammer look like a conservative Baptist minister... What? Wait a minute, strike that. Check out the mid-riff revealing sweatshirt that David Paul wears essentially through out the entire film. Little did poor David know that in just 8 short years they would have an entirely new name for them, they're called GIRL shirts. How can you not enjoy watching that?

The first thing, however, that will catch your eye with this 90's classic is the acting of the Paul Brothers. Not that it's bad, but actually the lack there of. Anyone can act bad, (I.E.) Lou Ferrigno, Vanna White, Al Pacino (recently). Over acting is an instinctual occurrence. But the Paul's do something quite uncommon. They are comfortable just being themselves, albeit big dumb 'roided out gym whores who can't act. I imagine this is the point of their thespian endeavor where they finally got in touch with their inner voices. Unfortunately that voice has the pacing of a old fat bear. It seems as if they are constantly contemplating what awaits them in their trailer at the end of each set up, whether it be food, women or a new set of chrome 120 lb. dumb bells, but certainly none of it seems phony. I actually believe they are going to go back to their dressing rooms to consume protein shakes. I loved this film.

Other reviewers are correct about the technical elements of the movie. The story is generic. The performances are decent, but not exceptional. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to review it because although it's not a great movie, it's a competent genre exercise, elevated by the impish charm of the Barbarian Brothers and the gravitas of Roddy McDowell and David Carradine. My only complaints: not enough A J. Johnson or Timothy Stack. If you can tolerate those straight-to-video action flicks from the late 80s and early 90s, you'll have a good time with this.

My score: 5/10

1-3: don't waste your time 4-6: good 7-9: great 10: outstanding.

Just how bad off were such talents as Roddy MacDowall, Troy Donahue, Bill Mumy, Lewis Arquette, and David Carradine that they decided that Double Trouble was the movie to be in? Were all the parts taken up in a Munster's tv movie?

This disgraceful film I caught one night while flipping around on television. After the revelation came that David Paul was not wearing a weight lifters belt but a midriff, my skin turned a color of green that Martha Stewart is sampling for her new paint collection. With such winning quotes as, "Where it IS!", I don't believe even James "Scotty" Doohan is putting this on his repitoire.

A true testament that if you try hard enough in Hollywood, you too can have your own movie...the Barbarian Brothers had three or four. Hope springs eternal.

This movie is an anachronism. Based on the clothes, music, hairdos, and so forth, it seems like this should be an eighties film.

Horkheimer, Adorno, and others of the Frankfurt School of thinkers argued in the 1940s that mass media was used to control the people and ultimately resulted in sameness. Double Trouble certainly proves the latter. The plot and the villains are all plucked willy nilly from various 1980s films. One of the barbarian brothers accidentally steals a card that gives access to a vault of diamonds just above the subway in downtown LA. The other barbarian brother is a cop forced by the chief to partner with his larcenous brother. Oh, the other barbarian brother...

How could anyone wear what this guy wears? The Raiders sweatshirt/half shirt with high-waisted, acid-washed jeans? But all of that pales compared with the mullets sported by each brother. Paging Billy-Ray Cyrus. The guy can't run either. He has a worse gait than Keanu Reeves.

Whoever thought that wrestlers could act anyway?

This film is about as fragmented and nonsensical as this review of it. In the right company this could be part of a beer-fueled evening with friends, or consumed alone. Regardless, mouths will be agape. The horror, the horror.

Limo driver Bob is late picking up Mr. Rosehill, who has a metal briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. Someone wants what is in that briefcase, and more than one person dies for it.

A cat burglar is robbing diamond distributors in Los Angeles. One of the detectives called to investigate doesn't look much like a cop. He looks more like he should be robbing the place. In fact ...

The other detective looks like a hooker and may actually be a guy in drag.

David was the smart one, always praised while his identical twin brother Paul was asked why he couldn't be more like his brother. Paul ended up being a criminal. David does not realize Paul is out of prison. Both of them get to work together on the investigation of the jewel robberies. Paul likes this idea a lot better than David.

Paul is the more likable twin. If either of these guys could act, this might have been a pretty good movie. Roddy McDowall is deliciously evil as the main villain--and unlike with Donald Trump, when he fires people, it's really a bad thing. But he's not on enough. One possible incentive--both these guys have mullets and weightlifters' bodies and they do both get to take their shirts off, but not much. But that would be for women or gay guys, and this action movie appears to target macho men and teens. Mostly teens, probably. It's not intelligent enough for adults.

That's not to say this wasn't entertaining. The mismatched twins are enjoyable to watch, and if I had liked David that part would have been more fun.