Twins Effect (2003) Review

“Twins Effect” Japanese DVD Cover

Director: Dante Lam
Cast: Gillian Chung, Charlene Choi, Ekin Cheng, Josie Ho Chiu-Yee, Jackie Chan, Edison Chen Koon-Hei, Mickey Hardt, Karen Mok Man-Wai, Anthony Wong Chau-Sang, Chapman To Man-Chat, Bey Logan, Spencer Lam
Running Time: 107 min. 

By Henry McKeand

Vampires and Kung Fu films have a long, if troubled, history. From 1974’s Shaw Brothers/Hammer Horror co-production Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires to wacky 80s fare such as Encounters of the Spooky Kind and Mr. Vampire, the late-20^th century found Sammo Hung and other action experts infusing martial arts stories with hordes of undead bloodsuckers. More specifically, these filmmakers drew upon the rich mythology of the jiangshi, or the Chinese hopping vampire. 

Practically, the most obvious difference between jiangshi and their Western counterparts is their tendency to move by leaping into the air with outstretched arms. In addition to the fight choreography potential, jiangshi films often use this hopping motion as a form of comic relief. While jiangshi are not inherently funny (and they can be frightening), these landmark films laid out a clear blueprint for success by blending horror and comedy elements.

While Hong Kong cinema was developing this new horror-comedy subgenre, Western fiction was learning to take vampires seriously for the first time in decades. Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire and a post-70s wave of sexy, stylized vampire stories led to vampires being considered “cool” again in mainstream culture. Then, in 1998, Hollywood vampire badassery hit its peak with the release of Blade. In addition to thanklessly kicking off the modern superhero boom, the Wesley Snipes classic reimagined vampires (and those who hunt them) as lethal, laconic Gen X-ers with martial arts training and a fresh Y2K attitude. The film’s debt to Kung Fu choreography must have reminded the Hong Kong film industry that it pioneered the vampire kung fu film, because the early-2000s saw a new wave of revamped jiangshi films for a new generation.

Here’s the problem: these 21^st century horror comedies lacked the manic creativity of their predecessors or the gothic-tinged action of Blade or the Underworld films. Instead, this short-lived trend resulted in legends like Tsui Hark and Donnie Yen turning in lowest-common-denominator popcorn nonsense like The Era of Vampires and The Twins Effect. The former, produced by Hark himself, managed to deliver some goopy, almost Evil Dead-esque practical effects, but it was doomed by a weak script and uninspired action. 

Twins Effect (also titled Vampire Effect), on the other hand, is a little more interesting. Directed by Yen and Dante Lam and released as the debut action vehicle for Cantonese pop icons Gillian Chung and Charlotte Choi, better known to fans as The Twins, Twins Effect can now be seen as a strange time capsule of a bygone age of Chinese stardom and martial arts filmmaking. 

Like so many films doubling as corporate product, Twins Effect relies heavily on reminders of better films from yesteryear, best exemplified by a fun-but-meaningless Jackie Chan cameo that only highlights the script’s creative deficiencies. When it’s forced to come up with its own ideas, the film usually fails. The plot is barely there, concerning a vampire hunter who is forced to team up with a new partner (Chung) after his previous apprentice dies. Meanwhile, his sister (Choi) falls in love with a well-intentioned vampire named Kazaf (Edison Chen). Rounding out the cast are Anthony Wong as Kazaf’s vampire servant and Jackie as an out-of-his-element ambulance driver who only appears in a couple scenes. 

It’s easy to zone out, especially since the “threats” don’t feel like threats at all. The vampires are over-the-top caricatures, and there isn’t a moment in the film that even pretends to be scary. The protagonists don’t fare much better–it’s no surprise that the humans are 2D cutouts with no real personalities, but the relative lack of chemistry between the Twins is disappointing considering their success as a duo outside of film. It’s not as if they’re bad actresses, but the script gives them little to do and even less definition. The main vampire hunter (an underused Ekin Cheng) suffers from the same problem—you don’t feel like you’ve learned anything about him by the time the movie ends. 

A clear narrative throughline never matters in this kind of spectacle-driven escapism, but the story here is particularly scattershot. Even worse, it also mostly fails as a tongue-in-cheek disaster viewing, never matching the camp brilliance of a later Twins action vehicle, 2007’s Twins Mission, which took a similarly aimless plot to particularly delirious heights.

There are moments where the film shines, however. While his presence feels like a cynical marketing ploy, Jackie Chan’s scenes are easily the standouts. He was at least a decade removed from his best work, but Jackie still had plenty left to give, especially with the right collaborators. In Lam and Yen, he found just that. His trademark warmth and masterful slapstick choreography is a treat, leading to the one true gem in the film: an extended set piece that has Jackie commanding an ambulance before squaring off against two vampires in the middle of the street. The sequence’s unhinged comic mayhem should have become the film’s focus. Instead, other scenes feel tepid in comparison. 

This is a shame considering that the film had the potential to do something interesting with the sub-genre. It moves away from traditional jiangshi storytelling, owing more to Western tropes. Yen, in particular, must have seen the potential of Western vampire fight scenes after working on Blade II. But instead of using this mythology to augment its action, Twins Effect opts for a scene in which a vampire wears sunscreen at the beach. There’s nothing wrong with that, and it’s the kind of scene that Sammo could have done wonders with in the 80s. But because it was conceived in a boardroom during an awkward transition period for Hong Kong filmmaking, Twins Effect offers nothing to sink your teeth into. 

Henry McKeand’s Rating: 4.5/10