fter Paul Wagner (Andy Armstrong) congratulates business partner Nigel Griffith (Alan Scarfe) on not only billions of dollars of profits, but also the completion of the Victoria Harbour Tunnel in Hong Kong, he heads home with his wife and twin babies. Awaiting him, however, are armed goons, who begin a deadly shootout that takes the lives of countless participants, orphaning the twins and separating them when a caretaker grabs one of them to safeguard with nuns, while bodyguard “Uncle” Frank Avery (Geoffrey Lewis) takes the other back to France with him. 25 years later in Los Angeles, Frank drops the news on Chad Wagner (Jean-Claude Van Damme), now all grown up, that not only is he not his real uncle, but that they have unfinished business back in Hong Kong.

As luck would have it, Chad is an expert in martial arts and has a great sense of right and wrong. But he’s also a bit goofy and naive, waltzing into a seedy mahjong bar with no sense of potential dangers. Also by luck after all these years, Frank learns of Alex Wagner’s (also Jean-Claude Van Damme) existence – the other surviving twin – living in Hong Kong. And so, with almost no convincing at all, the mismatched duo team up to regain what is rightfully theirs. “He looks exactly like you!”

With Van Damme producing, it doesn’t take long before Chad does the splits to show off his flexibility and physique (this is followed by plenty of shirtlessness). But in an amusing though anticipated turn, he plays dual roles – one a bit of a happy-go-lucky fool, the other a streetwise, cigar-chewing, smuggler of illegal goods. It’s the classic routine of having an upstanding boy scout join forces with a rough-around-the-edges crook counterpart, allowing the actor to play good and bad in alternating moments. It’s also comedic, though rarely as funny as it should be – even with gags about Alex’s girlfriend Danielle (Alanna Shaw) getting handsy with a stranger. “You don’t seem quite yourself today.”

Much of the following story has little to do with expected identification switch-ups or jokes on the wrong brother assuming the other’s position; having identical twins in this premise serves a meager purpose (weirdly, this wouldn’t be the last time that Van Damme plays twins in a theatrical feature). In fact, it’s somewhat problematic, since a handful of shots opt to have both of them side-by-side, resulting in dated special effects. Instead, since the motives are incredibly flimsy (or downright nonsensical), the setup is basically just to allow for action sequences and hand-to-hand combat – and other scenes of adventuresome vengeance. In this regard, casting Bolo Yeung as a silent, hulking henchman is spot-on; having him face off against Van Damme is always enjoyable. Yeung is certainly more memorable than chief baddie Zhang (Philip Chan), who serves as a generic, sharply-suited mob boss. Like in 007 flicks of the era, “Double Impact” also adds a formidable female villain to counter Danielle, here in the form of the perpetually glaring, dark-eyed, suspiciously muscular Kara (Corinna Everson), who laughably catches the heroine snooping through secret files in a random secret files room more than once. “Chill out, pal!”

Unfortunately, with such a bland plot, the pacing suffers; despite regular shoot-outs and slow-motion roundhouse kicks to the faces of unsuspecting thugs – and characters jumping through the air whilst unloading two guns simultaneously – there isn’t quite enough stuff going on (or reasons for various actions to take place) to keep up engagement. Every plan – from blowing up a drug factory to infiltrating a club – appears poorly devised; and, indeed, they tend to fail spectacularly, not just leading to extravagant destruction, but also in giving away their identities. Nevertheless, a few stunts are impressive, while an obligatory sex scene and a related brotherly spat are quite hilarious. And although it meanders and goes on for entirely too long, the finale does boast some long-awaited duels and confrontations – and unusually cathartic violence against a slew of deserving brutes.

– Mike Massie