Arnold Schwarzenegger’s gentle awkwardness and Danny DeVito’s energy make Twins pleasant company. Ivan Reitman’s comedy has too few good jokes to sustain its premise, but the leads give it a modest charm.
Twins is an amiable comedy with a thin supply of jokes, sustained by two actors who make a surprisingly agreeable pair. Ivan Reitman gets enough pleasure from their differences to justify some indulgence, though 107 minutes asks for rather a lot of it. We would keep this one for an evening when the company matters more than the story. The pleasure lies in watching Arnold Schwarzenegger take his character’s feelings seriously while Danny DeVito supplies the restless energy.
Arnold Schwarzenegger’s gentleness is the useful surprise. His Julius Benedict can be awkward without becoming a figure of contempt, and his size makes that uncertainty funnier without being the whole joke. We laughed at his tentative approach to romance, because he makes the effort to get things right more endearing than any display of competence would be. There is a sweet performance here, and the comedy improves whenever it gives that performance room.
Danny DeVito gives Vincent Benedict a more impatient comic presence, pushing against his co-star’s sincerity. His physical energy is welcome, particularly when the writing seems content to remind us that these men look different. The pairing works because both performers appear committed to the people they are playing, even when the material barely extends beyond the premise. We would happily spend longer with them in a better script.
The screenplay is credited to Herschel Weingrod, William Osborne, William Davies and Timothy Harris, and it does not find enough variations on its central idea. Predictability need not spoil this sort of comedy: familiar situations can still produce an unexpected response or a good line. Here, too much depends on the actors providing that extra lift themselves. The result stays pleasant for considerable stretches without becoming especially funny, which is a material shortcoming in a comedy.
Andrzej Bartkowiak’s cinematography gives the physical contrast a clear, unfussy presentation, which is what the joke needs. James D. Bissell’s production design is similarly unobtrusive; the surroundings seldom offer anything as amusing as the men occupying them. That restraint suits the performances, although we might have welcomed a little more comic business beyond the leads. The film looks sufficiently comfortable, but visual polish does not give a thin scene much extra life.
The editing, by Donn Cambern and Sheldon Kahn, cannot quite disguise the gaps between worthwhile laughs. At 107 minutes, the film is not extravagantly long, yet its repeated reliance on the same contrast makes it feel stretched. The music by Randy Edelman and Georges Delerue supports the agreeable mood without making the slower passages any more engaging. There are stretches when we notice how hard the performers are working to keep a modest scene alive.
Against the demands of an odd-couple comedy, Twins gets the casting right and leaves too much of the rest to chance. Its affection for its characters prevents the physical joke from turning sour, and that counts for something. It is easy to understand the appeal while wishing the writing had been less satisfied with its starting point. Choose it for the leads, with modest expectations of the jokes.